


Had He Ever Been

by karmaylore



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-10-18 15:39:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 53,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10619964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karmaylore/pseuds/karmaylore
Summary: Before he brought new horror to the galaxy, before he betrayed the people closest to him, before he called himself Kylo Ren. Before all that, he was just a kid named Ben from Chandrila. He had a family and friends who loved him, a destiny as a powerful Jedi before him. Too bad he never stood a chance.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Thank you for clicking on this fic. Here's a summary that's more to the point: this is basically a big, fancy meta about how Ben/Kylo becomes the person we see in Force Awakens. (Well, not this chapter, obviously, but this thing as a whole.) Enjoy!

**“Then the last thing. This is what people can talk about… Things are breaking up. I don’t understand why. We began well; we were happy. And then -”** \- William Golding,  _The Lord of the Flies_

 

“Ben, honey, what are you doing?”

 

The call came to him from miles away, though his mother only stood a few feet from him. The thing stared up at him with vacant eyes, if one indeed _could_ call those eyes, imploring...something. Ben poked it with his finger and shuddered at its slime, giggling. It had apparently been washed up with the tide, and, being caught out too far - perhaps it had had an untimely stroke of bravery, perhaps it had been driven by an even bigger fish, doomed if it did or didn’t - whatever the case, even the highest waves now did not touch it.

 

He was three, he was four, this was his first clear memory but exact dates eluded him.

 

He felt a shoulder upon his arm, and squinted up into the late afternoon at the face of his mother. Or, where he assumed his mother’s face must be; the sun was shining too directly into his eyes for him to tell.

 

She kneeled down beside him.

 

“What is it, Mom?” he asked her, looking at this wise woman with wide eyes.

 

“Hm…” She pursed her lips thoughtfully, did as he had done and prodded the creature. Pretending to learn, in a shock, of its unpleasant exterior, she feigned ultimate disgust, and Ben fell back on his behind from laughing so hard. “Well, it’s certainly very pretty, isn’t it?”

 

In between snorts, Ben got back on his feet and just managed, “No, Mommy! It’s gross.” He stuck his small tongue out at it, as if to prove his point with unquestionable finality.

 

Ben’s father, who had been standing a few feet back and observing, decided to now jump into the debate. Squatting on the other side of his son, he put a hand under his chin, lost deep in thought.

 

He nodded to himself. “Oh, yes, I think I know what this is.”

 

Ben turned his attention immediately to his father, rapt.  “What is it, Dad?” he asked, eyes growing even wider.

 

“A tublerian sucker… blobfish,” he declared. He shook his head gravely. “These things are nasty business.” Ben glanced quickly between them. Leia shot Han a sardonic look, wondering where her husband could _possibly_ be going with this. This passed entirely over his head, and his attention pulled immediately back to his father.

 

“Really? Why?” Ben demanded.

 

“Well… I hate to tell you this, Ben, but it’s been said that strange things happen to anyone who _dares_ to touch one of these.” He gestured at mysterious sea creature with his thumb.

 

“What _kind_ of things?”

 

“Well, I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure that anyone unlucky to come into contact with one of these babies ends up with spots _all over_ their faces.” Giving Ben a very severe look, he ghosted his fingers all about his face, mimicking his son’s ghastly new fate.

 

Gasping, Ben whispered, “But _I_ have spots all over my face.”

 

His mother nodded, humming in ascent. “I’m afraid so. But I _have_ heard that, if you save it from dying all washed up, then you’ll be safe.”

 

Ben’s face lit up with relief, and he scooped up the thing and threw it directly back into the ocean from whence it had come.

 

“Good job, buddy,” his father said, pulling him in for a quick hug. He took his son’s tiny, soft hand into his own, calloused and giant in comparison. “We’ve got to get back though, now, okay? I’m sure you’re probably getting hungry, right?” Prompted by his father’s words, he learned that, yes, he was starving.

 

“Okay,” he agreed, and held his mother’s hand too, when she proffered it to him.

 

They walked back down the beach in this way, Ben between them, swinging their arms back and forth. Every now and then, more often initiated by Han than not, they would swing him just so into the air, and he could hardly breathe for the squeals of delighted laughter that fell forth from within him. And in between these moments, his mother would fall to humming a tune, perhaps from her own childhood. Ben already knew it by heart. His mother’s hand was gentle; his father’s steady. The sun was warm as its caress faded. He found he loved them intensely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this far! So, as I mentioned at the top, my intent here was to write a long, exploratory, glorified meta about Ben/Kylo's character development. There are a lot of questions TFA raised, I think, with giving us such a unique character. Here's my attempt at answering them.
> 
> All the chapters are already written and edited, and my plan is to keep posting them once a week on Thursdays. It'll also only get longer from here.
> 
> Let me know what you think so far! Comment here or come to talk to me over on tumblr at antagonist-official.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things begin to go wrong. Poor kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for continuing to read this! Hope you enjoy it!

**“I thought of my family: vulnerable, unsuspecting… never dreaming that damnation bore down upon them, sails pregnant with a pirate wind, a necklace of heads about its prow.”** \- Alan Moore,  _Watchmen_

 

Ben was five, and his father was telling him a story in passionate tones before bed.

“And so then, the evil sith lord told the Jedi the truth. The truth his master had hidden from him all along.”

His father paused, and Ben’s eyes could have swallowed his whole face.

“And  _ then  _ what, Dad?” he urged, leaning further forward. “What did the Sith lord tell him?”

They had started the night relaxed on a pile of pillows under a fort made of one of Ben’s bedsheets, but he had been sitting straight as a board for the last ten minutes as he listened.

“He told him…”

Ben had just started to whine at this further interruption when his father grinned, and declared, “that he was his father!”

Ben gasped, blown backwards onto his elbows by the force of this revelation.

“No!” he shouted.

“Yes,” said Han, nodding solemnly. “And the Jedi also screamed, just like that.  _ Nooooo _ !” he imitated, though quieter. “And then, as the Jedi was still holding onto the pole with all his strength, his  _ father  _ pleaded for him to join the Empire. For them to rule together, as father and son.”

Ben gasped at this high drama. “But he didn’t, did he? Right, Dad?”

Han shook his head. “Nope. He told the sith lord that that would  _ never  _ happen, and just like that, he dropped right off the ledge and down into the hole in the pillar through the bottom of the city! And he fell down, down, down -” Han’s hand was a mock Jedi as he plunged it towards the carpet- “- until he managed to slip through the side of the wall and grab hold of one of the wires hanging off -”

Ben lunged forward, pawed at his father’s chest and face. He insisted, “Shhh,  _ shhh _ !”

His father attempted to push him away. “Ben, what are you-”

Ben stared back at him, his eyes pleading, until Han noticed the silhouette standing near the door. In the soft yellow light, she was a gentle gray intruding in their little world.

“Oh,” he mouthed.

“Boys,” came the chastising voice, “what are you doing under there?”

“N-nobody’s under here!” Han called out. “Go away!”

Unable to contain his giggles, Ben joined in. “Yeah, go away, Mom!”

Ben’s mother took the few steps from the door to their fort and lifted the sheet, bending over to peer in. She pursed her lips as she took in the unauthorised scene before her. After a few seconds, Ben learned this was possibly the funniest thing to ever happen to him in his life, and fell back on himself in a fit of laughter.

Patting his son on the head, Han tried, “He  _ really  _ wanted another story.”

Leia rolled her eyes. “I’m sure he did. And I’m sure you just had to tell him  _ that  _ one?”

Han looked back innocently at her. “Why, honey, whatever could you mean? Me, purposefully keep Ben up past his bedtime?”

His mother sighed. “Just get out of there and help put his room back together.”

Han grinned at her. “Okay, okay,” he consented, getting up.

“But, Mom -” Ben whined.

“No, Ben,” his mother said. “Enough.”

He pouted, and crossed his arms, refusing to get up and help his parents. He was incapable of imagining a more unfair fate than this. He was so resolute in his protest, in fact, that he had to be physically picked up and carried to his bed.

His mother pulled the covers over him, and his father kissed his forehead.

“Goodnight, Ben,” his mother called from the door, in that strange mixture of amusement and exasperation mothers alone are capable of producing.

“We love you,” his father added.

“I love you too,” he grumbled, just audible.

And then the light was out, and though he thought to stay up all night to spite them, he really only managed a good five minutes before sleep overtook him.

*    *    *

It was another night, though it might as well have been the same for how it had gone, and Ben had just fallen asleep. His bed was warm and soft, and his dreams were pleasant enough. He was accompanying his father on one of his many missions to some distant planet; he had no idea, really, what his father actually did when he left, but his mind held no shortage of enthralling possibilities to consider.

Tonight, they were speeding off through the galaxy to rescue his Uncle Luke from a giant space squid. Ben, of course, was at the helm of his father’s - no,  _ his  _ ship - and everything was going as planned.

He turned to his Uncle Chewie, who was currently fiddling with some switch on the dash. “How are we doing, Chewie?” he asked.

“RAAARRRGHH,” Chewie answered. Which, obviously, meant things were going swimmingly, and that was  _ Uncle _ Chewie to him.

“Right, sorry,” Ben said. He turned behind around and yelled out, “What about you, Dad?”

“Everything’s good here too, son!” his father said, poking his head out from in the floor, his face smeared in places with grease. Climbing out, he came forward and clapped Ben on the shoulder. “Thank you so much for agreeing to come with us, Ben. I don’t think we could do this without you. You’re so brave.”

Ben nodded seriously. “S’no problem, Dad. Just doin what I gotta do to keep order in the galaxy.”

“Of course, son,” agreed Han, wiping a tear from his eye. “You -”

Ben cut him off with a hand held in the air. “Not now, Dad. We’ve got one big, ugly squid, incoming.”

For the space squid had now appeared in view, shining in all it’s big, spacey glorey outside the Falcon’s front windows. It had Uncle Luke wrapped in one of its slimy tentacles, and gave a deafening screech, brandishing his poor uncle.

“Man the guns, Dad!” he yelled. “Time to take  _ down  _ this overgrown blobfish!”

“Right!” he yelled back, clambering down into the artillery space.

“Eat blaster, squid!” Ben yelled, as the squid charged at them among the rapid bolts shooting out from beneath the ship. 

And then, the squid was upon them, and the windows had shattered, and he screamed, and everything was dark, and he was… he was inside the squid? He had been thrown into space?

It was dark, and he couldn’t see or feel anything. He simply was… was…  _ was _ .

Fear overcame him. He was spluttering on nothing, struggling to breathe even though there was a part of his brain which screamed he didn’t need to do anything right now anyway. That this wasn’t  _ real _ .

But it didn’t help. He didn’t start this. He never did, and once he was here he couldn’t control his dreams anymore. He wouldn’t be able to calm down, even though he so desperately tried to find a way out.

So he drifted, breath coming short and panic overcrowding his thoughts.

“ _ Please _ ,” he begged. “ _ Please, why are you doing this _ ?”

That was always the trick. The figure diffused out of the darkness. A wraith haunting his dreams.

Though Ben was still aimlessly floating, the hooded figure glided effortlessly towards him, stopping less than a foot away. He always got this close, but Ben never saw his face. He stared at it, could not take his eyes away from it.

“What do you want?” he sobbed. “ _ Please _ , stop.”

Ben never knew how much time had passed, but at some point, when the creature had evidently gotten his fill of Ben for the night, he would turn, rejoining the darkness once more. And it never spoke. No matter how much Ben screamed or pleaded or cried, it would never answer.

He began to cry in relief as it left. Because, because... 

He was in his bed again, he curled into himself, he couldn’t stop crying.

_ Why, why, why _ .

_ Come to me if it happens again _ .

The words came from his mother, when she had tucked him into bed. Sniffing, he prepared his courage for the task of getting out of his terribly dark room. He took one last deep breath before making a mad dash for the hallways, bursting through the door right as his father was coming out of the bathroom further down the hallway.

All terror, all tears were put on hold in that moment. His father squinted at him, groggy with sleep and still unsure if that crazed mass down the way really could be his son.

“Ben?” he said. “Sweetheart?”

Ben sniffed.

“What are you doing out of bed?” His father walked towards him.

And then, a new fear mixing with the old - oh, if he was going to get in trouble now, too…

His father knelt down in front of him, searching his face for something. “Hey, hey, Ben,” he consoled, wiping away tears with his thumb. His father’s hands were rough and warm on him, and he wasn’t in trouble after all, and, and he...

He buried himself into his father’s chest, the wails coming from within anew.

“Oh, honey,” his father breathed, holding Ben tightly to himself. “It’s okay. I’m here. It’s okay.”

It was not the instantaneous calm he was accustomed to with his mother, but still, the mantra did not cease until Ben finally began to calm down, the sobs slowing their rate, the tears pouring forth less profusely, and his mind returning to what rational thought it was capable of.

They stayed like that for forever, Ben safe in his father’s arms. For how could any masked monsters come after him when he was here? It wasn’t within his powers of conception to even entertain, even for a moment.

When they both sensed the time was right, Han scooped him up and took back to bed.

“Was that another one of your nightmares?” he asked. Ben nodded. “Yeah, your mom told me about those.”

He pulled the covers back up around Ben, sitting down on the edge for a moment. Gently brushing through Ben’s hair with his hand, Ben began to drift off again.

When he was nearly, miraculously, asleep, his father said, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! Feel free to drop a comment here or come talk to me over on tumblr, at antagonist-official.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AKA that exciting moment when your destiny is revealed but it's kind of a let down because your mom is annoying.

**“Your mission, Roman, is to rule the world.**

**These will be your arts: to establish peace,**

**To spare the humbled, and to conquer the proud.”**

**-** Virgil,  _The Aeneid_

 

“Dad, to you have to go?” Ben’s small voice pleaded.

 

Han sighed, put his hands on his hips, looked down at his son. “Yes, Ben, I’ve told you I do. If you and your mother enjoy living in a house and eating, that is.” He attempted a smile.

 

Ben frowned and looked away.

 

“C’mon, kid. It won’t be for too long.”

 

Ben’s round face creased into a pout. “But you _said_ , Mom _said_ it was going to be longer than usual.”

 

Now it was Han’s turn to frown. “Well, don’t worry about what Mom and Dad said the other day. Just listen to what Dad is saying now. I promise I’ll be back as soon as possible, and in the meantime, try and have fun with Uncle Luke. You’re excited about that, aren’t you?”

 

“I guess,” Ben stubbornly conceded, folding his arms. “But it’s still more fun with all of us.”

 

Han knelt down in front of Ben and hugged him. “I know it is, buddy.” He kissed Ben’s forehead. “But I love you, okay?”

 

“I _knooow_ ,” Ben huffed.

 

His father ruffled his hair and stood back up. “Go say bye to your Uncle Chewie.” Picking up a crate waiting near the entrance to the Falcon, Han disappeared inside.

 

Chewbacca was stepping out from the house, also carrying some box full of something or other needed for his father’s trip. Ben met him somewhere in between the ship and their house.

 

Chewie smiled and put the box to the side. He knelt in front of Ben, stretching out his long, furry arms. Ben grabbed onto him tightly, felt that he never wanted to leave the soft sanctuary of his uncle’s embrace.

 

“Bye, Uncle Chewie,” he said, his words muffled by Chewie’s fur.

 

“ _Bye, Ben_ ,” Chewie said. Chewie spoke solely in Shyriiwook, of course, but having grown up with his uncle, he had no issue understanding him. “ _I’m going to miss you_.”

 

“I’m gonna miss you too,” Ben said. They separated after a moment.

 

“ _But you probably heard your dad say that he’ll try to be as quick as possible. I promise that too, okay?_ ”

 

“Okay.”

 

“ _Bye_ ,” he said, one last time before following Han into the ship.

 

“Bye.”

 

He looked back to the house. The side facing out into their backyard was almost entirely covered in windows which stretched from ceiling to floor. He could see the kitchen, and the dining room adjacent to that, but he couldn’t see his mother. He might have been young, but he had stopped expecting her to come out and see the Falcon take off for a while now. He guessed she just didn’t like seeing his father leave as much.

 

Turning back to the ship, he heard it power to life, saw the thrusters light up, felt the hot breeze it generated as it lifted up and into the sky. The light wasn’t strong at this point in the day, but he still shielded his eyes with one hand as he followed the Falcon’s ascent into space. He watched until it disappeared. He had once asked his father how high they were when he couldn’t see them anymore, and his father told them the planet wasn’t big, so it was probably pretty close to being out of the atmosphere.

 

Ben had been flown around in the ship, taken on vacations and for visits to his parents’ friends, but he had never been off planet before. He wondered a lot these days about what could be out there, especially since his father liked to tell him stories all the time. He wanted nothing more than to be part of those stories one day, to be just like his father, to fight against evil and save princesses and be clever and bold and brave, all like his father was. But, his parents and Uncle Chewie and Uncle Luke all assured him that one day, when he was older, he’d get his chance. He didn’t understand why he needed to wait, but there wasn’t really anything he could do about that, and for now his life was fun enough besides.

 

Some kind of insect chirped nearby, and a gentle wind brushed by his face. The sun was setting. It painted the sky in jeweled rose tones, and he found his thoughts turning away from his father and uncle and towards the excitement this time of day always brought. There was just… _something_ about right now, about the time just before it got dark, that filled him with a sense of, um, something. At any rate, he found it was much cooler to play now than in midday.

 

He knew, by now, the mood his mother would be in if he went back inside at this point, and he was determined to avoid _that_ at all costs. So instead, he decided to continue his pretending game of Jedi, where he played the famous Jedi his father liked to tell him about so often. Or, rather, that he liked to request for his father to him about so often.

 

It was nearly dark by the time he found his aunt and uncle dead, burnt beyond recognition by the evil Empire’s stormtroopers. They had really been looking for him, of course. But he had been lucky enough to chance upon a wise old Jedi master earlier that day, so he had been saved. Crying out, he slashed his branch-lightsaber combo against some unseen structure. He knew it didn’t actually go like that - or, at least, his father had never told it to him like that - but he just didn’t believe that the Jedi wouldn’t have reacted _at all_.

 

“Ben!” his mother called out. He froze mid-swing, hoping his game wasn’t too obvious to her. “It’s time to come inside now!”

 

“But Mom!” he protested, stick hanging by his side.

 

“No,” she said. She stepped out onto the yard. “It’s getting dark, and you _know_ it’s not safe to be out here.”

 

“But-”

 

“Enough,” she ordered. “Now.”

 

He threw the stick to the ground and stomped back into the house, not bothering to take his shoes off. His mother groaned at the fresh stains on the floor.

 

“Ben, how many times have I told you not to track mud into this house?”

 

“Whatever,” he mumbled, continuing into the house.

 

“Excuse you?” she said. Ben glared at his mother. “Do you want to try that again?”

 

Rolling his eyes, he bent down as slowly as he could manage and unlaced his boots.

 

“Why do you care about my stupid boots and this stupid floor so much but you don’t care when Dad leaves?” he asked, carrying them over to the mat by the door.

 

He froze. She froze. He hadn’t meant to actually say that.

 

“Um.”

 

Her anger was a physical thing, pushing him to his fate as much as her voiced compelled him. “ _Benjamin Organa-Solo!_ ” she shouted. “ _Go to your room! Now!_ ”

 

Yeah, that seemed fair to him about now.

 

He trudged down the hall to his room, but when he crossed the threshold, he found he was actually _not_ the one at fault here. He slammed the door, and a few moments later heard his mother cry out indignantly. Whatever.

 

He slumped down against the door. He wished he was still outside now. He felt like he needed to run and scream, like he just - needed to get out somehow. He didn’t know when that had started, and he didn’t understand why he was as furious as he felt right now. Sure, the thing with his mom had been _annoying_ , but where was… the rest coming from?

 

Releasing a frustrated scream, he sent a figure on his desk flying across the room and smashing into the wall. The pieces scattered across the floor, and he stared at them as if he hated them. Concentrating his rage, he pushed outwards, towards the pieces, told them they shouldn’t exist anymore, because he hated them. They hovered for a moment then disintegrated, the even smaller remnants floating back to the floor.

 

It had been a stone figure of some planet’s sun god. His dad had gotten that for him.

 

He groaned, didn’t know when the tears started to well up in his eyes, but then he supposed he was crying. He held his legs close to his chest, hid his head in his arms. His room was already dark, but he needed it even darker, he needed there to be no reminders of the unfriendly, outside world. And so the sobs came forth, but neither his dad nor his mom came in to see if he was alright, to take him up in their arms and hold him until the pain passed. It was like that now.

 

He was curled in a tight ball on the floor when he became aware of his headache. Someone was knocking on his door.

 

His mother’s voiced filtered softly through. “Ben?”

 

His limbs ached as he stretched himself out and sat up.

 

“You can come in, Mom,” he said, the end distorted by a yawn.

 

“Ben?” she said, sticking her head in. She blinked in the darkness. “Jeez Ben, is there a reason you’re sitting here in the dark?”

 

“Turn the light on if it bothers you so much,” he snapped.

 

He heard her sigh, but the light switch on. She took a moment to survey the scene before her, giving Ben a confused look.

 

“And you’re… on the floor?”

 

“I guess.”

 

His eyes followed her as she took a seat on his bed. “Can you come sit with me?”

 

“I guess.”

 

The last thing he really wanted to do right now was talk to her, but he did as she had asked anyways. He sat as far away as he could, though, and kept his body tight and to himself. He didn’t look at her.

 

“Ben, I think that maybe I was… a bit too harsh with you earlier. I know that your father leaving isn’t easy for you either.”

 

The tears were back, and he wiped them away furiously.

 

“If you do actually care when he leaves, then why do you always just get angry with him?” Ben asked, glancing furtively at his mother.

 

Leia sighed. Again. _Why does she keep doing that?_ It was annoying; he fidgeted.

 

She was silent for a time, Ben perhaps having brought up a point she hadn’t yet considered.

 

At length, she said, “I, I know this might be difficult for you to understand, Ben. And I can see where you’re coming from. But I _do_ love your father. I love him so much, that it hurts me to see him leave so often.”

 

Ben furrowed his brows. She was right, it was hard for him to understand.

 

He jumped when his mother put a hand on his shoulder, and meant to move away, but she shifted closer and her touch filled him with warmth throughout. He relaxed into her. He realized he loved her again and hugged her, desperately. She ran a hand down the back of his head and used her other to wipe the tears that streamed persistently down his face.

 

“I’m sorry, Mom,” he told her. “I love you.”

 

“I know you are, sweetie. I love you too.”

 

*   *   *

 

Ben hadn’t slept well that night, but what else was new? When he did wake up for good, it was to the smell of something baking in the kitchen, and that sort of made everything alright.

 

Sitting up, he yawned, stretched, fought away any lingering sleepiness and climbed out of bed. It was still pretty early, and - wait. It was early… and his mother was up… and she was in… the _kitchen_? And she had to have been the one cooking. Maybe his antics last night had upset her more than she had let on.

 

He got dressed quickly and stepped into the hall. His worst fears were confirmed as he saw that, yes, his mother certainly _was_ in the kitchen and she was washing a bowl in the sink which could only mean…

 

“Oh, good morning, Ben,” she said, looking over her shoulder and smiling. “How’d you sleep?”

 

She hadn’t said anything obviously offensive, but he was still irritated with her.

 

“Hey,” he mumbled, climbing up on a stool at the kitchen bar.

 

He watched her work, watched her small frame somewhat clumsily bustle around and clean up the mess she had apparently made.

 

His mother was putting away the last spoon as she turned to him and repeated, with less pleasant pretense, “How did you sleep, Ben?”

 

Ben frowned at her. She cared so much about this. And, sure, the man still scared him a good deal, but it had become so… normal, he guessed, to him, that he didn’t understand why his parents still asked him every morning about it.

 

Nevertheless, she wasn’t going to give up until he answered, so he told her, “Same as always.” Her look of worry, mixed, he realized, with poorly hidden disapproval. It made him wish he had lied. He tried to change the subject.

 

“Did you make breakfast?”

 

She crossed her arms and looked at him bemusedly, leaning back against the counter. “ _Yes_ . I do have at least _some_ competency with food, you know, Ben Solo.”

 

“Is that why you never cook?” he just managed, grinning. His shoulders shook with the effort of not laughing at his own cleverness.

 

“Well,” she said, looking to her side at the oven. “It does make it easier when your Uncle Chewie does all the prep work, when he’s around.”

 

Ben allowed his laughter to burst forth now, amusement evident in the loud, sharp peals he made. When he calmed down enough to look at his mother, she was smiling at him, but it was almost… sad? He sniffed and became quiet once more.

 

“Your uncle’s going to be here soon,” she told him, and now she wasn’t smiling at all. “Can you go around the house and pick up anything that’s obviously out of place?”

 

“Do I _have_ to?” he whined, already slipping down from the stool.

 

She pushed herself off from the counter. “Yes, Ben.”

 

“But Uncle Luke won’t care.”

 

“But I do. Go,” she shooed, turning around and reaching to the cabinet above her, for plates probably.

 

Ben did as he was asked, but he already knew that his mother had spent considerable time cleaning last night, so there wasn’t much to be done at this point. But that was alright, since apparently “soon” meant within the next ten minutes. He knew Luke was close before he even heard his ship approach the surface. That was something he had learned to do over the last year, even though it only really worked with family members for some reason.

 

“Uncle Luke’s here!” he told his mom, rushing back into the kitchen.

 

Her surprise lasted only a second before she agreed, “Yeah, he is. Good job, Ben.”

 

“For what?” he asked, peering up at her.

 

“Oh, um, for helping to clean the house. I appreciate that.”

 

“Oh, okay.” He could feel that that wasn’t exactly what his mother had meant, but he didn’t argue.

 

Luke’s ship was just now touching down, and he ran out into the yard to greet him. Luke stepped presently outside, his artoo unit trailing closely behind. He knelt immediately and Ben ran into his arms, picking him up and spinning him. Ben sounded out his absolute joy.

 

“Hi!” he laughed when his uncle put him down.

 

“Hey, Ben,” said Luke. “It’s so good to see you.”

 

He beamed up at his uncle. “You too,” he said.

 

Luke’s gentle smile turned into something less congenial when he saw his sister. “Leia!” he called out, walking up to her and embracing her as well.

 

She sighed into him. “Ah, Luke,” she said. They separated. “You’re here earlier than I expected.”

 

Luke shrugged. “Am I? Yeah, I guess I am. I finished prepping the ship earlier than I thought last night, and I made a few tune ups too, so I guess I made better time than I thought.”

 

“Well, that’s alright,” his mother conceded, putting her hands on her hips. “I’m sure neither Ben or I will be upset about getting to spend more time with you.”

 

“Mhm,” Ben agreed, nodding furiously. Both adults laughed at him.

 

His mother let out a breath, continuing. “Breakfast is almost ready, if you’d like to come inside.”

 

“Of course,” his uncle said, following after her. Ben came last, running after them both.

 

All too soon, it seemed, his mother was asking if he was done and was clearing away the dishes. His uncle was apparently very determined to insist he should help his sister with this duty, but at the threatening of a black eye, he finally backed off.

 

“Besides,” she reminded him, “don’t you need to have, you know?” She twirled her hand nonchalantly.

 

He raised his eyebrows.

 

“A what?”

 

She frowned, brief frustration flashing across her face.

 

“What we talked about. You can’t seriously have forgotten already.”

 

Ben followed the exchange with intrigue. He had a feeling, though, what - or, probably, whom - this conversation referred to. Luke’s eyes widened.

 

“Oh! Yeah, right, of course.” He playfully punched Leia on the shoulder. “Did you really think I’d forget something like that? I do listen to you, you know.”

 

Leia snorted and punched him back, but with full force.

 

“You? Oh, but of course not,” she said sweetly.

 

Rubbing his shoulder, he laughed nervously, “Right…” He turned to Ben now. “Hey, Ben, I brought something for you. Why don’t you come out with me to get it?”

 

“Okay,” he said contentedly, hopping down from the stool and following Luke outside.

 

The sun had arched farther into the sky at this point, but Chandrila never got too hot. The entire planet, in fact, was uniquely temperate. They had seasons, sure, but not in the real sense that Ben knew other planets in the Core did. It was one of the things he most wanted to see when he was allowed to travel with his father out into the galaxy.

 

They stopped on the edge of the landing pad, the white, synthetic plaster-like material creating a sharp contrast with the vivid grass it staved off. Luke looked down at his nephew, crossing his arms. Ben looked back up at him, confused. He licked his lips absentmindedly.

 

“Don’t we need to go to your ship, to get the thing, Uncle Luke?” he asked.

 

“Actually, Ben,” he said, “I lied about that. Well, maybe not. I might have something to give you, but it’s nothing physical. It depends on how this conversation goes.”

 

“What?”

 

His uncle was making absolutely no sense. And, not to mention, it was slightly irritating that he didn’t have any gifts for him after all. Luke sat down on the pad, crossed his legs and patted the ground.

 

“Why don’t you sit and I’ll explain,” he said.

 

“Um, okay.” Ben folded his legs and sat down across from Luke, on the grass side. The grass was warm from the sun and it felt nice on his hands and in the way it tickled his legs.

 

“Your mother and father have had some…” Luke searched for the word, making small circles with his flattened hand. “concerns, I suppose, as of late. About you.”

 

“Oh,” said Ben, flatly. This was about the dreams. Everything was always about the stupid dreams.

 

“You already think you know what I want to talk to you about,” Luke stated.

 

“Um, maybe? Is it the dreams?”

 

Luke’s eyebrows rose.

 

“Actually, no,” he said, and Ben let out a breath. “Well, not directly.” Ben sucked in another breath. “Your dreams might have something to do with what this is actually about but -” Luke shook his head, waved his hands. “Look, look, let me just get right to the point. You know about the Force.”

 

Ben nodded. “Well, yeah. I’ve seen you use it plenty of times. Or, what you told me was you using the Force.” Ben recalled how his uncle used to play games with him when he was younger by having him try to catch things he’d float about. He remembered how enthralled he had been. “But what does that have to do with me?” he asked, trying to sound calm but probably failing. His heart tried to push its way out of his chest then. He dared to hope he knew where this was going.

 

“Well, your parents… they think you might be like me.”

 

Luke had dropped the words in front of him, and his eyes had swallowed his face, and his mouth was a gaping cave underneath those eyes. He felt dirt accumulating in his palms, under his nails. A breeze rushed between them, blew his hair in front of his face and he pushed it back. Ben convulsed.

 

“Seriously?”

 

Luke smiled at him, his eyes creasing in the corners.

 

“Seriously,” he confirmed. “Apparently you know how to levitate things, sometimes. Is that true?”

 

“Um…”

 

It wasn’t that he couldn’t think of any times he had done so, it was that every time he _had_ was because he was in trouble, or his parents were screaming at each other again. They were loud memories, crowding, angry. He didn’t control it, not like his uncle. He had hoped it was the Force -- it was practically a one way ticket to being a hero, he thought -- but he’d never been sure because of that.

 

Luke reached out and placed a hand on his knee.

 

“You’re not going to be in trouble. Please, you can tell me.”

 

He knew, inherently, that this was true. He wasn’t sure why he had hesitated in the first place. Of course it was okay, how could he have been so dense?

 

“I mean, yeah. That’s true. But, um, it only happens when I get upset, I guess.” He looked downwards, away from Luke. “When my mom yells at me or Dad and her are yelling at each other.” He found he was shaking again. “I didn’t know that was the Force.”

 

And another thing, but he didn’t dare mention it.

 

Luke patted his knee.

 

“Well, it certainly is. It’s honestly not uncommon for someone to learn they can use it like that. And I’m sure there are actually quite a few other ways that you’ve used it, but you wouldn’t know.”

 

“Like what?” Ben asked, curiosity overtaking any lingering shame. He looked back up at his uncle.

 

His uncle thought for a moment, then said, “Hm… have you ever found you’ve known something without being told? Maybe it only happens with some people. Or maybe you’ve been able to, I don’t know, stop something you didn’t want to happen from happening?”

 

“Oh! Yeah, the first one, definitely. I kind of always know when people are back before they really are. Like Mom or Dad or, or even you, before you came this morning.” His mother’s meaning from earlier dawned on him. “So what does this mean?” he asked.

 

“Well, it means that, if you want, I can teach you how to use the Force. I’ll be honest, and tell you that I wasn’t formally trained as a Jedi. That might not be -”

 

“You were a -” Ben shouted, but Luke held his hand up and he became quiet again.

 

“We’ll have time to talk about this all weekend, but let me finish first, alright?” Ben nodded, in sudden awe of his uncle. “I think, though, that I received enough training that I could instruct you. Well, not just you. I’m trying to find more kids like you, too.”

 

“Why?” Ben asked, before he could remember what Luke had asked of him just seconds ago. The sun was reaching further in is arc, and reflected off the blinding white of the pad so that he had to shield his eyes to look at Luke properly.

 

“Because,” Luke explained, “I know you don’t know this about galactic history yet, but there’s a reason I’m the only Jedi you’ve ever met. There used to be a lot of us, thousands across the galaxy, but almost all of them were murdered before you were born. The force is a balance, among other things, and bringing back the Jedi would help to restore that balance.”

 

“Who would do that?” Ben asked, completely dumbfounded. Jedi were heroes, were incredible, were everything anyone who was smart would want to be.

 

Luke smiled at him, and the creases around his eyes became deep lines that he had never noticed all over his uncle’s face.

 

“Not everyone agreed with the Jedi, or what they stood for. But that’s unimportant right now, and as I said, we can talk about that later. But right now I need to explain to you how this is going to go, if you really do want to learn how to use the Force.”

 

“Of course I do,” said Ben.

 

“It’s not going to be right now.” Ben visibly deflated, and Luke held up his hand. “But it won’t be that long into the future, either. In the meantime, I think it would be stupid of me not to teach you a few things, but right now, I just don’t think you’re old enough yet. But when the time comes, you’ll come live with me every now and then, and I’ll teach you what I can.”

 

Ben fidgeted, tried three different sitting positions in the space of half as many seconds. His uncle’s words barely registered. A Jedi. He was going to have the opportunity to become a _Jedi_. And his own uncle was one. But wait.

 

“Does Mom know about this yet?” he asked.

 

Luke gave an expression as if he had just been caught stealing sweets before supper.

 

“Not… not exactly, yet. As far as she knows, I’m just asking you about your experiences with the Force, not offering to take you in as my apprentice. But I can’t imagine she’d be too much against it.”

 

“Oh, okay,” he said. He looked at Luke for a moment. “Is that it?”

 

“Yes, Ben, that’s it,” he laughed. “I know you have a lot you want to ask. You can go ahead now.”

 

Ben’s face positively lit up. Where was he even supposed to start? It was like trying to choose between never having to do chores for the rest of his life, or only ever eating cake for every meal, forever. Finally, he came to something resembling a decision.

 

“Um… okay. Okay… so. Is it true that...”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Growing up is hard and kids are mean. Now with 100% more original content! (I.e., anyone whose name you don't recognize is made up, because there's not enough content out there for me to not have to do that.)

**"Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. But anger is like fire. It burns it all clean."**

**-Maya Angelou**

 

Ben wiped the sweat off his forehead with a fervent palm. He closed his eyes, breathed in deeply once, twice, three times.

_Okay_.

He opened his eyes again, smoothed out the front of his shirt and lifted his hand. He kept his arm stiff and straight in front of him, held his hand out and open as if he were waiting for someone to return the gesture.

_Okay_.

Breathing in one last time, he pushed himself outwards. He strained to feel, to connect. It felt as impossible as trying to pick yourself and carry your own body ten miles. It was just there, it was just under his skin, he felt it prickling, it convulsed -

His body convulsed and he was taken aback a few steps, lost his balance and fell back on his butt with a grunt. He looked around furiously for the source and saw his Uncle Chewie standing a few feet away, warbling out his laughter.

“Uncle Chewie!” he screeched.

“ _Oh, relax, Ben_ ,” he said through his laughs. “ _You just looked tense._ ”

“I was trying to concentrate!” said Ben, crossing his arms, his lips forming a tight pout.

“ _Alright, alright_ ,” Chewbacca apologized. “ _My bad. I’ll leave you alone now_.”

“ _Thank. You_ ,” he forced the words through gritted teeth. Frick, uncles could be so annoying sometimes.

He got back to his feet and glared as Chewbacca went back to whatever work he was doing on the Falcon. This time, he moved a good distance away, so that he could only just make out one of his parents moving around in the kitchen. He thought it might have been his father.

He cast his eyes about, searching for a new…

_Ah. There_.

Ben picked up the smooth stone, turning it over in his hands. Uncle Luke had told him that was the first step. Not that he necessarily knew how to bond with a rock. But Uncle Luke had also said that if he tried to use the force on a living thing at this point, he would probably end up hurting it, so he wasn’t going to try that. Not that it would have been that easy to find any willing participants anyway.

_Alright_.

He placed it down in front of him, positioning it just so. Once again, the hand pushed out, the palm stretched taut. Eyes closed, three deep breaths, eyes open. Almost, almost.

_It’s right there. Just -_

It wasn’t a conscious transition. It was more like falling asleep. All at once, he could feel it, again, pulsating within him, without him. It was overwhelming, a tumultuous sea, inside of him.

_Now outwards_.

This was the hard part. It was one thing to know yourself; another thing a galaxy away to try to know something entirely apart from you. But…

He could feel the air. It was different. A mixture of the warmth in himself and the comfort in everything else. He didn’t know how to describe it. _Uncle Luke_ didn’t know how to describe it. But he already knew it. He had known it as soon as Uncle Luke had said it. Known he had always sort of felt it.

And that was the other thing. It wasn’t just forming a connection. It was taking intentional control, too. Because he could always feel himself and his parents and his home and everything else, but it was in the way that you stop noticing how loud ships are because they’re just always _there_.

So the problem was two-fold, but the problem was solvable. He knew he could do it. It just hadn’t happened yet. But it would.

The rock startled him with its new intrusion into his energy. It was more solid than anything around it, more definite. He wound his own plodding, serpentine energy around it.

_Almost. Almost._

Then it was severed, and he was gasping, inside himself all at once, no warning, cut off. It was lonely for a moment, cold, and he whirled around to face towards his house.

Shattering. Someone had thrown something. He could hear their voices from here, though he couldn’t make out the words.

Ben shivered, wondered when it had gotten so cold outside. And hadn’t it been sunny out earlier, too?

Whatever. Who cared. His parents were at it again, never seemed to _not_ be at it if you left them alone long enough.

He breathed heavily for a minute, clenched and unclenched his fists.

_I…_

Screaming, he directed his energy directly at the rock. He _hated_ that damn rock. It flew against a nearby tree, leaving a sizeable dent in the bark. Again, and again, and again, and _again_ he threw the rock against it, until there was a hole halfway through the tree and that wasn’t enough so he made the rock disintegrate, and as the ruble fell to the ground, he felt placated by his destruction.

_It. They…_

_Them_.

And he was screaming again, and searching, searching for anything, anything to help. It was his parents and it was his lack of control unless he was how he was now. He felt it, small, furtive, maybe one hundred feet away, maybe less. He commanded it towards him as if through a dream; he watched it fly until it was quivering before him, and it was insignificant and it was terrified and he thought how that somehow made him feel even worse. He hated it.

A crunch became the most satisfying noise he’d ever heard.

When did he start crying? What was that on the ground there? When did it get so _cold_?

In gruesome fascination he knelt down and examined the thing’s broken body. It was so… gross. He whimpered. That was probably generally the case for things that used to have faces but suddenly found them turned in upon themselves.

It used to have a face. A face that had looked up at him. A face that, through its fear, pleaded at him not to, though it hadn’t know what he intended.

Had he even known what he intended?

_No_.

Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance.

He sniffed and wiped his tears. It was alright, it didn’t matter, it was just one of probably hundreds - thousands - like it. And he had needed to. So it wasn’t a problem.

Ben turned back towards the house. A face, ghostly white, stared back at him. _His_ … his mother. It was gone. And he was left with the dead thing. And he couldn’t stop the tears that flowed freely down his face, this time.

His face was impassive; he did not even blink when the rain first hit his cheeks and he made his way inside.

*    *    *

Ben was nine, and he could think of nothing he hated more than his third level class. When his mother could drive him to school in the mornings, he thought about how this planet didn’t matter at all to him, about how the lessons were information he neither needed nor wanted, about how he’d be leaving this stupid school in a couple years anyway, so why did his parents make him go in the first place? It was stupid.

Five and a half stagnant hours would begin. It was a constant, painful awareness to Ben, as he sat in the corner of the white meeting mat, as far squished into the corner against the bookcase as he could manage. He would curl there, hoping this would be the one day Instructor Doremus would skip him for the morning discussion. But that was never meant to be, apparently, since each and every morning, five days of the week, the awkward, hastily thought of answer came tumbling out of his mouth, too clumsy and too loud.

When Doremus was explaining what they’d be learning that day, he thought about how boring and useless it all was. The real lessons would start, and sometimes those were better, since he didn’t have to say or do much. A nod here, a quickly muttered “yes” or “no” or, the ever infallible, “I don’t know” there, and Instructor got what he wanted, and he didn’t give the others any more fodder for ridicule than they already possessed. Or, at least, this was what he aimed for. Because if there was one thing they didn’t lack for, it was differences they could find within his character, within his appearance - within anything - to torture him with.

As he sat defining vocabulary with two girls that morning, he asked, for the millionth time, why this had even happened. Last year, it hadn’t been like this, not right away. Last year, when his mother and father had first escorted him to class, shaky with excitement and apprehension, _school_ had seemed so wonderful. Something he knew the other kids in the neighborhood went to sometimes, that he had quietly wished to become a part of. And it had been fun, honestly. Instead of finding games to entertain himself with, instead of being ordered to pick up this or that, he played with real, live children, and he learned all sorts of things, and they were all interesting.

But that pleasant business had ceased when -

“Did you get this one?”

“What?” Ben looked up from his tablet.

“This one, number five,” came the reply, immediate and with a persistent jab from Amitris’s stylus. He stared at the offending tool for a moment, then at her. Scowling, she pulled her hand away.

“Oh,” he said. “It means sarcastic. But when things are serious. _Inappropriate_.”

“ _Thanks_ ,” she said, her intonation dropping into an almost lazy hiss.

And therein lay the problem. He supposed that, if he had given her the definition directly, he could have avoided the conversation the other two girls were silently planning now for as soon as he was out of earshot. But he couldn’t just _let_ Amitris get away with it. That was worse, somehow.

And anyways, things had been fine until he’d let slip that he was sensitive. That his uncle was a Jedi who was going to train him to be one too, someday.

There had been a chorus of “That’s so cool” and “Wow”, and when he’d looked up at his second level instructor, who’d apparently been listening, he gave Ben a weird look but still ended up smiling and congratulating him as well. So it went all right, it went really good, actually. But that -

“Alright, everyone!” Instructor Doremus’ shrill voice called out. Everyone turned and listened. “It’s time for lunch.” This news was met with a stampede of pushed out chairs, to which Instructor held up a stern hand, and it grew quiet once more. “We’ll be going outside again today, so make sure you put your tablets _away_ before you leave. Alright, you’re all free to go.”

Ben waited in line behind the others to put his tablet on its metal shelf. By the time it was away, most of the other kids were outside already. That was fine; it was easier for him to grab his lunch without having to push through anyone else.

_But that_ \- the thing with him sharing - had been before anyone had actually understood what he had said. Really comprehended, he finished. He was just about to cross the threshold when Instructor called to him.

“Ben?” his voice carried, trepidatious.

Ben turned, face passive, waiting.

“Can I talk to you for a moment? I promise I won’t keep you too long.”

“Um. Sure,” he said. A laugh shot through the doorway just before it closed. He glanced outside.

He sat in the chair in front of the instructor’s desk, lunch bag perched on his lap. Instructor Doremus’ hands were crossed on his lap, and he peered calmly at Ben. Ben fidgeted.

“What is it?” he asked.

“You’re not in trouble, Ben,” Instructor Doremus assured him, sending a polite smile. “I just wanted to ask you about something.”

“Oh.”

“Now, I understand if you don’t want to talk to me about this, but I hope you know you can trust me, and I can help you if you want me to.” His sickly smile didn’t waver. It made Ben angry for some reason. “But Ben, I was just wondering how you’re doing.”

“What do you mean?”

Instructor Doremus waved his hand. “Oh, just that it seems sometimes like you don’t always have an easy time with everyone. Now, I don’t think that’s your fault, and maybe it’s actually someone else’s fault. But I want you to enjoy being here. So if there’s anything I can do to help us reach that goal, then I would really appreciate it if you told me.”

Ben remained silent. His first instinct was to tell his instructor nothing. But maybe there was a chance that -

“You don’t have to tell me right now, Ben,” Instructor Doremus said. “I’ll be here to listen, though, whenever you want to talk. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he finished. “You can go eat now, if you’d like.”

He stood up, the chair screeching obscenely against the tile floor. This was partially the Instructor’s fault, actually. And he thought he could just, what? Swoop in to help him? And that would be that? Instructor Doremus worked with kids for a living, but Ben couldn’t help but wonder, as he stepped outside into the mild noon, if he actually understood kids at all.

The fact of the matter was, Ben decided, starting on his lunch as he sat against the building, that Instructor Doremus had been instrumental in his current situation being what it was.

Things were fine at first, he remembered. His classmates would ask him to demonstrate his fledgling ability; and he would gladly, greedily do so. He couldn’t really do it at first, of course, and especially not on command. But it became easier, and by the end of the school year, he was levitating data pads and styluses this way and that, finding friends with his eyes closed, guessing classmates’ mental answers to questions at any and every behest.

It didn’t last long. Two boys in the class had hated him for what he could do, had decided they would make sure Ben never felt that accepted or liked again. But that was near break, so mostly he just ignored it.

He assumed that would be the end of it. He was an idiot. As soon as he had stepped into his third level class the first day, he could sense everyone’s hostility. He had learned very quickly that attempting to regain favor was hopeless; that it was almost always, indoubtably better to rebut instead.

And so here he was, he concluded, as he stood up, lunch over. It was hard not to care what they thought, and he hated them more, maybe, because he _could_ know what they were thinking, at this point. It wasn’t conscious - not like what he knew his Uncle Luke was capable of - but it was there, as always, in any moment he was angry or sad or frustrated. That was most moments at school.

_Two more hours_ , he sighed, sitting down at another table with another group. And then one hour, and they were sitting in group again to learn about the fauna of Chandrila. And then thirty minutes, and he yelled at himself not to fidget so much. And then the school day, at least, was finished. Now came the real test.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, children. Peace be with you,” Instructor Doremus bid farewell.

“And with you,” the class chorused back.

Before the last syllable was out of their mouths, Ben sprinted to his cubby, tore his bag off the hook and dashed out of the room. At first, when he’d starting doing it like this, he had been embarrassed. But there really was no other way. Or no hope of another way, at any rate.

Because - he glanced behind him and he shot out the doors to the school building - often even a good head start wasn’t enough. He was out of bounds. The day was bright, things were warming up. He was sweating, a little.

Every day, every afternoon, for nearly six months he had done this. Sometimes he won, and sometimes -

His face was introduced to the packed dirt of the walking trail. A stray stone cut his face. He winced. Sitting up, he looked around. Half a mile, today, maybe. Not bad. But clearly not good enough.

“Look who it is,” someone taunted. Hard to tell - the sun was in his eyes - but he would wager it was one of the boys. Adrdan. He gave Ben a thoughtful prod with his boot.

“Yeah,” scoffed… the other boy, Wespete to the left. Of course. “The class _Jedi_ , thinks he’s better than everyone just cause he can do a couple flashy tricks.”

Ben’s face pulled into a taut grimace.

“What’s wrong?” Adrdan said. “Gonna cry?”

He blinked. _No_. He hated them. He almost smiled; that was absurd. Of course he did.

From Wespete, now: “Heh, look. He totally is. What a _baby_. Sorry your family isn’t here to save you.”

And now a real kick, again from Adrdan. A vague “oof” escaped his mouth as he doubled over on himself.

“C’mon, _Jedi_ . _Do_ something.”

Another kick, from behind. The dirt mixed uncomfortably with his wet face. And another, near his head.

“Yeah, _Jedi_.”

Because of course they would now.

He hated them. Another. Distantly, he thought, he hated everyone indirectly responsible. His p-

Another. He went into a fetal position.

He couldn’t -.

Another.

Someone hauled him up by his shirt, spit in his face. They said something he couldn’t hear. He could feel their hands, though. He could feel one was gone.

He could feel.

He was outside, inside. He could feel Wespete - his slimy pulse, drawn fist, greasy _hatred_. But he could… Wespete knew he was there? Not consciously, but Wespete’s energies and his own, they were mixing in a vaguely familiar way.

Oh.

Well, if Wespete was angry because of the Force, Ben was more than happy to show it to him. Ben exited, but lingered in his fist, concentrating energy in and out. It would be a sting, barely register at first, and then -

He wheeled back and Ben stumbled, blinking. He was blind. Wespete was screaming.

“What the _fuck_ did you _do,_ Solo!” Adrdan screeched. A blurry fist connected with Ben’s face; he grunted as he fell back on his ass.

He groaned and Adrdan laughed. Painfully clumsy, Ben attempted to stand. They wouldn’t let him.

He was held down. Ben shuddered, let out a barking laugh.

“You are _nothing_ , you little fucking _freak_ ,” Adrdan hissed, hot breath inches away from his face. “You’re going to fucking regret that.”

_No_.

The feeling rushed through him and without him, entering Adrdan as he, in turn, raised his fist.

_Harder this time_ , he heard in his mind. He found he had never agreed with anything so strongly in his life.

The fist began its downward arc; the force began to condense inside his tormentor’s body.

“Stop! Leave him alone!”

The plea shot through his concentration, he released it before he could think, and Adrdan shot away from him, screaming. Ben was thrown back too.

He sat up, wincing at whatever injuries he had just acquired. If he’d had to guess, there was maybe a broken rib or two. Not on him though. And also not what he had wanted. But - oh, right. Who had…?

“-you guys even think you’re doing? What did he do to you?”

Another boy, dark curls framing his soft face. Comically small, almost.

Ben stared. A quiet sob filtered through the cessation. He waited for a rebuttal, a protestation, but… nothing. The boy’s eyes flit from face to interrupted face. Frowning, he turned to Ben and proffered a hand.

Ben accepted shakily and stood. He drew his brows together.

“Um, thanks?”

The boy nodded.

“Were you headed home? Let’s go, then,” he said.

Ben glanced backwards as he began to lead the boy down the path. Adrdan was crying; Wespete was curled up to the side. Satisfaction and rage coursed through him. This was good. This was right. They deserved it.

He turned back to his companion.

“Um,” he started.

The boy looked at him and Ben swallowed, turned away. The boy didn’t say anything. The wind rustled faintly through the trees.

He tried again, “Thanks. I know I already said that, but, um, thanks.”

The boy looked at him and grinned.

“Sure,” he said. “I’m Poe, by the way.”

“Ben.” He attempted a smile.

“What was all that about?”

“I don’t know,” Ben lied. “They like to beat on me, I guess.”

“Oh. That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

There was a pause. Ben stared down at their feet.

“Oh! Are you hurt? You looked like you were, when you got up, before,” Poe said.

Ben frowned.

“Kind of, but I’m alright.”

“Are you sure? My house isn’t far from here.” Poe gestured lazily west with his thumb. “My mom and aunts are home and I’m sure they’d be able to do something.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m not that far either.” Something occurred to Ben. “If you live around here, how come I haven’t seen you before?”

Poe flashed him a smile. “I don’t actually live here. I’m actually from Yavin-4, just visiting for a while. My dad is visiting the capitol soon on some official sort of business. I… I kind of forget what it’s about, though.” Ben peered sideways and saw Poe blush.

“That’s okay,” he tried. “My mom _works_ at the capitol and I don’t really know what she does either.”

Poe laughed. “That’s kind of cool, though. I bet your mom is pretty important.”

Ben shrugged, smiling despite himself. “Yeah, I guess.”

It was a few minutes before either spoke again. Poe stopped, at the path to what Ben knew was an adjacent neighborhood. So he really was close to where Ben was, then.

“I have to go this way. But it was nice meeting you, Ben! I hope I see you around.”

He flashed Ben a huge grin and left. Ben stared after him for a moment, watching the bouncy way he walked. It was kind of funny.

“Um, you too!” Ben haphazardly called after him. He could feel himself blushing. Poe was a vague spot, turned the corner, was gone.

Something shrieked from a tree and Ben jumped. Right. He needed to go home now.

Finally and more definitely alone, he inspected his body. There was a bruise on his forearm, but his long sleeves covered that. He felt his face. He couldn’t tell if there was anything visible, but it certainly hurt. Then again, he had taken at least one hit straight on. Idiot.

His own neighborhood was busy this time of day. People arriving home, kids, home from school, running out to find their friends. He supposed it was normal, but couldn’t conceive of it. His house was near the end, set further back in the oblong cul de sac. Well, a lot further back, really. A long walkway stretched languidly towards their short, ergonomic home, the same as all the others in Chandrila that he’d ever seen.

Slinging his pack higher on his shoulder, he walked down their front path. A child screamed behind him, thrown in the joyous passions of childhood. Had he ever? No, and it was annoying, he decided. Ben pushed open the door, slipping his shoes off and placing them beside.

“Dad?” he called out. Nothing.

He stepped slowly, softly to the kitchen. No one was there. He looked outside. The Millennium Falcon sat parked, in the distance, but he couldn’t see anyone out there. Padding down the hallway, he could almost taste his momentary freedom. This was good - he needed time to collect himself, to think of some acceptable way to explain. He-

“Ben?”

The weight of the phrase caused him to drop his pack beside him. He turned; his father was just coming out of his parents’ room. So much for that. His father eyed his pack.

“Are you alright? I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Oh, no,” Ben said, forcing out a laugh. “It’s okay.” He picked it up. “I just didn’t expect it, since you didn’t, um, answer when I called earlier.” It came out angrier than he meant it, but really - why hadn’t his father answered him?

His father raised his eyebrows. “You called? I guess I didn’t -” He paused, mild surprise giving way to dreaded concern. “Ben, son, what happened to you?” He loomed over Ben, ghosted over his face. “Did those boys give you trouble again?”

Ben looked away and shrugged. Han placed a hand on Ben’s shoulder.

“Please, Ben, I want to help you. But I can’t if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s nothing,” he mumbled, attempting to shirk him and leave.

His father’s grip tightened.

“Dad -”

“No, Ben. This is the second time this week you’ve come home like this. I need you to talk to me.” He considered Ben for a moment. “And don’t tell me it’s nothing. Don’t lie to me.”

Ben shot him a confused look. He was so ... insistent. He shivered, and his father’s expression softened.

“They just, I don’t know. They just chase after me after school all the time. But it’s okay Dad. I can take care of them.” He paused, debating. Alright. “Or, um, I’ve learned to.”

“You call…” Han gestured vaguely. “You call _this_ taking care of them? What do you mean, you can take care of them?”

“They - they started because I’m sensitive. And they get scared if I use it, I guess.” His father finally took his hands away, and Ben visibly relaxed. Something Ben couldn’t read passed over his father’s face now. It felt like … fear? But -

“You’re using the Force to hurt them?” Han asked, voice tight.

“No, just this one time,” Ben admitted. “But, um.”

But he had felt Adrdan and Wespete’s reaction so strongly.

“But what?” Han interrogated, standing up. “What did you do to them?”

Ben stared up at his father. Tears welled in the corners of his eyes.

“What?”

“You heard me, son. What did you do?”

“I - I don’t know! It -”

“You don’t know? You don’t _know_ ? You don’t _know_ how you _hurt_ those boys? The Force isn’t a toy, Ben! It’s dangerous!”

His tone had risen; he hadn’t said anything obviously hurtful, and yet his words had cut deeper than any of the hits Ben had just taken. Now the tears flowed freely.

“Dad, please! You don’t understand!”

“No, Ben, _I_ don’t understand? I’ve seen how the Force can ruin things! I’ve seen what it can really do, and you’ve only barely learned about it. And you think _I_ don’t understand?”

He took a deep breath, and a sob wracked through Ben’s body.

“D..ad…” Ben tried. He stared at the ground as best he could. He needed to get out of there. He turned and was again held back by his father.

This time, though, it was a tight embrace. Ben struggled against it.

“Dad, let me _go_ ,” he cried.

“I’m sorry, Ben,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

Ben stood, limp, torn by the admission or denial of his feelings. He didn’t know which action represented which.

“I love you,” his father said.

Ben said nothing.

Later that day, though, when his father had left to do Ben didn’t know what, and he was alone in his room, and the voice in his head whispered so righteously to him...

_Your father was wrong._

And Ben agreed.

_He doesn’t understand you._

And Ben was sobbing, broken, choked cries.

_You know he never will_.

And Ben felt, as a scream ripped through him, and his lights shattered, and he sat, alone and crying, covered in and surrounded by broken glass, that nothing was so honest as that.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adults can really be the worst, can't they? And what do they know, anyways? At least Ben will have one friend (or maybe two) who actually cares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a couple of days late! I realized the chapter I'd originally written as chapter 5 was sort of pointless, so I decided to combine it with chapter 6. Thanks for reading and enjoy!

**“It’s difficult to draw a line between good and bad. One person’s poison is another one’s nectar. A warm woolen blanket is very good in the winter, but you don’t even touch it in the summer. It depends upon how you approach a situation. Truly speaking, there is neither good nor bad in the world outside.”**

**\- Sri Swami Satchidananda**

 

Ben couldn’t sleep.

 

He wasn’t afraid of bad dreams or anything; that had stopped being scary forever ago. Rather, it was one of the weeks where they got two days off from school, and Ben found this made everything seem a little better, including the book report which loomed so darkly for after the break.

 

And more to the point, Poe was on planet for the next two weeks, starting today. It was longer than his normal visits, and Ben had found himself preoccupied for the past three days with this, since he’d been told.

 

He stared at the ceiling, thinking about a few months ago, when they’d met again for the first time since, uh, the first time they’d met. Okay, so they’d met that first time, after Ben had gotten in that fight. And then they’d more officially met like a year after that. His mother had dragged him with her to the capital, to stay with her for a week while she took care of some official Senate business or whatever. (He hadn’t really paid attention then, and he definitely didn’t remember now.)

 

But anyway, Poe’s dad had been there to make a speech, so they’d been able to, like, actually be introduced. Their parents had been surprised they’d known one another, though they hadn’t explained the exact circumstances under which they’d met.

 

He thought about their first real conversation, in the hallway of some politician’s apartment, hidden away from a party their parents had brought them to.

 

They’d slipped away and towards the hallway, which had taken another turn. Ben had lead Poe around it, and finally, when they’d been out of sight of anyone, he’d sat down. Poe had folded his legs outwards -- how did he _do_ that, Ben had wondered, still wondered -- and had sat next to him.

 

“You don’t like parties?” Poe had asked.

 

“Is that really what you’d call a party?”

 

Poe had considered for a moment and laughed, “Yeah, no, I guess not.”

 

Ben had thought. “What’s Yavin-4 like?” he’d asked.

 

“Mostly jungle,” Poe’d said. “It rains most days, but never for too long. It’s… really sunny and hot, actually. When you’re not under the trees. Then it’s pretty dark.”

 

Ben had scrunched his nose. “That sounds pretty uncomfortable.”

 

“Hmm… you think so? I like it hotter, honestly. Chandrila is usually too cold for me.”

 

Ben had snorted, “Seriously? But it never gets cold here. I kind of wish it did.” He shrugged at Poe’s incredulous look. “Apparently some planets have this stuff called snow, and it’s like… frozen water? Some have it all the time, and some only some of the time. I’ve always wanted to see it, though.”

 

“I’ve heard that some planets have different weather different times of the year too,” Poe had said. “It seems so weird.”

 

“I know!” Ben had shouted, but Poe hadn’t grimaced or laughed. He’d corrected himself, feeling the blush spread, “I… I know. I hope I can see it some day. It seems so much more interesting than this. But my dad said I have to wait until I’m older until he takes me off planet.”

 

“Yeah, Chandrila doesn’t change much, as far as I can tell. But I’ve only been coming here a couple years.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah… but I’ve only ever been here and Yavin-4. So… I’ve travelled off planet, but not anywhere really.”

 

“Oh. Sorry.”

 

“It’s okay! I want to be a pilot when I’m older, like my mom, so I’ll get to see all over the galaxy.”

 

Ben’s heart had pounded.

 

“I, um, I’m kind of the same… I, I want to be a Jedi when I’m older, like my uncle. So I guess I’ll be able to travel through the galaxy too,” he said, staring at his feet. He had never shared that before.

 

“Woah, really? Can you, like, use the Force? Who’s your uncle?”

 

Ben couldn’t help the smile on his face as he’d responded, “Yeah! I’ve been able to for um, since a while ago, and I’m pretty good, I think. My uncle trains with me sometimes, but not full time. I hope I can do that soon. And - oh, right! Maybe you’ve heard of him, I don’t know, but my uncle is Luke Skywalker.”

 

Poe had gaped at him. “You’re kidding! I -- I feel really stupid! I knew your mother was Leia Organa, but I guess I just never… put it together.”

 

Ben had made something halfway between a snort and a scoff, and had said, “It’s so weird to hear her full name like that, sorry. But uh, yeah. That’s us.”

 

“Oh, wow.”

 

“I guess.” Ben had shrugged.

 

“Maybe you --”

 

“Boys?” a voice had interrupted. His mother. She had turned the corner and smiled. “Oh, there you are. We’re going to eat now.”

 

Ben had scowled.

 

*     *    *

 

Finally, mercifully, Ben exited the school building the following day and spotted Poe waiting for him by the road.

 

They hugged tightly, Ben knocking Poe off balance with his momentum.

 

“Hi!” Ben exclaimed, the overly-large mouth he had so often been mocked for splitting his face with a grin.

 

“Hey Ben!” Poe said, mirroring Ben’s expression.  “I’m so happy to see you!”

 

“You too!” Ben said, breathless.

 

There was a tumultuous, exhilarated silence. Poe broke it.

 

“Are you - are you ready to go?”

 

“Oh, yeah. Of course. How are you? How’s Yavin-4 been?”

 

“I’m great. Really good now --” the splitting grin was back on both of their faces -- “but good. The farm’s been fine. All the trees should have fruit soon. Oh! And I’ve gotten to go out flying a lot more lately too.”

 

“Awesome!” Ben exclaimed. “I hope I can see your farm one day. Or just get off Chandrila in general.”

 

“Yeah, I hope you can visit someday too. We could have like… _multiple_ sleepovers…”

 

Ben gasped, “You’re so right. We’ve got to ask.”

 

“But speaking of asking, did you talk to your parents yet?”

 

Ben sighed, “No. I feel like there’s no point. They’ll probably just say no anyways.”

 

“But you don’t know if you don’t ask!” Poe looked at him with urgency. “Seriously, what’s the worst that could happen if you asked?”

 

“I’m not even sure they know I think about that kind of stuff.”

 

Poe gave him a look.

 

“You don’t? No offense, but it’s pretty obvious.”

 

“What?” It had never before occurred to Ben that someone besides himself might be… Nevermind.

 

“I mean, I guess I already know that you’re into all that Jedi stuff, but from how you talk about your uncle or how much time you spend studying it. It just… it’s really clear, what you like.”

 

“But that doesn’t mean --”

 

“No offense again, but it’s not a huge leap from that tooo the Jedi thing.”

 

Ben had been blushing throughout this conversation; he could feel his face positively burning now.

 

“Okay,” he said, focusing on some trees they walked by.

 

“Don’t take that the wrong way,” Poe said. His tone was weird. “It probably just means they know it’s not out of nowhere. You have, um, credibility.”

 

“Sure.”

 

Ben certainly wasn’t going to say anything, and Poe was silent for a few minutes before asking, “Do you want to play at your house or mine today?”

 

“Yours is fine, I guess.”

 

“Alright.”

 

Houses didn’t look that different from neighborhood to neighborhood in Chandrila; all of them were sprawling, single-story, simple in design and aesthetic. The only difference Ben had ever seen, beyond personal additions, was that the color of houses in each neighborhood followed a different palette: Ben’s was greys and whites, and Poe’s was yellows.

 

Poe’s aunts’ house was a particularly bright shade of sunny yellow. Ben found it kind of ugly. But Poe and his family more than made up for that.

 

Right, he… liked... Poe.

 

“Um,” he said. Poe looked at him. They were almost to the driveway. “Thanks for having me.” He tried to smile, to show that it was okay. Poe smiled back and it was okay.

 

“You don’t have to --”

 

“Poe! Ben!”

 

One of Poe’s aunts, Tes, was running out of the house. She scooped them both up in a monstrous hug. “Ben, I’m so happy to see you sweetheart!”

 

“Yeah, um, you too, Tes,” Ben mumbled. Ben liked Poe’s family a good deal, but this sort of thing always made him uncomfortable, for whatever reason.

 

“What about me?” Poe said, pretending to pout as she let them go.

 

Tes snorted, “I just saw you, genius.” They all laughed, and Tes turned to Ben, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Are you going to be staying for dinner?”

 

“Uh, I don’t --”

 

“Well, I’ll call your parents and ask. I can ask if you can stay over too, if you’d like?” she told him, winking.

 

“Yes please!” Poe said. “I mean, please, Aunt Tes.”

 

She laughed warmly, “Alright, boys, I’ll leave you two to play now! You both know the rules.”

 

“Okay!” Poe called.

 

“Thanks,” Ben said.

 

They both watched her walk into the house.

 

Poe turned to Ben and began, “So, I was thinking --”

 

“Wait, actually,” Ben interrupted. “No, I’m sorry, I just. I want to show you something.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“Just something I figured out how to do kind of recently.”

 

“Oh, like Force stuff?”

 

“Yeah. Let’s go, um…” Ben looked about - “In those trees, back there,” he said, pointing.

 

“Okay.” As they tromped through the brush in front of the trees, Poe asked, “Is this something your uncle taught you?”

 

“Um, n-” Ben surveyed, decided where they would do -- “no, not really. I just figured out how to do it myself. I’m sure he could do it too, though.” He crouched to the ground, searching for… there. He began to pull grass out from the spot. He glanced over his shoulder at Poe. “But like I told you, my uncle doesn’t really teach me how to use the Force, beyond some really simple stuff. He mostly teaches me, I guess… theoretical stuff.”

 

“Yeah, I remember. I was just asking. What’re you doing though?”

 

“This,” Ben said, scooching to the side. He’d picked the grass away from an ant hill.

 

“What are you --”

 

“Just watch,” Ben said, grinning.

 

He spread his hand over the hill’s entrance, taking a deep breath.

 

_Alright, feel inside_ , he told himself. This was always easy. He could feel the Force swimming inside of him, just under the skin, as always. But the Force ran through everything, so he just had to…

 

_Follow it outside_. He felt the Force flow out of his body, focused on what was coming out of his fingertips and his palm. He willed it to extend, to mingle with the Force energies of the ants.

 

They were so busy. And there were so... many. A whole city in its own right, stretching actual feet below the surface. It was overwhelming, the way, if he let it, their energies could invade his own. He took a few breaths. He had done this before; he could do it again. They were just insects.

 

He furrowed his brow and began to pull. At first, it was nothing but a dull tingle about his fingers. But as he drew more in, as he pulled harder, it moved up his arm, engulfing him up to his elbow. It was like a vibration. And he didn’t know if it was just in his head, but it became harder to keep his hand still. He put more of his weight onto it, holding on, breathing, until nothing more came to him.

 

He stood up, too fast, and felt everything rush to his head. He stumbled and Poe caught him.

 

“Are you alright?” Poe asked.

 

Ben stood up straight.

 

“Mhm, I’m fine. Really good,” Ben said, nodding. He felt better than alright. It was heady; he needed to put it somewhere. He fumbled to a tree, put his hand on the trunk. “Um, I, I don’t know if this part will work. I’ve never been able to do it perfectly,” he prefaced, looking back at Poe. Poe simply watched intently.

 

Ben faced the tree and let go. This was much easier. He could feel the tree stirring, absorbing what he gave it. He was beginning to come back to himself. He wasn’t sure how, but he could feel that the tree wouldn’t be able to take much more. But he was almost done, so --

 

The tree split in half with a gross _crack_ , and both Ben and Poe jumped back. “S-sorry,” Ben said, still staring at the tree. One half fell over, creaking and landing on its neighbor. Something in a nearby tree screamed at them. He shook his hand, as if it were burnt.

 

“It’s… fine,” Poe said. Ben looked at him, and he seemed unable to take his eyes off what remained of the tree. “What did you _do_?”

 

“I took the energy from the ants and transferred it to the tree,” Ben explained. “But it was too much for the tree, I guess. I couldn’t just hold it in, and I don’t really… I don’t know how to just let it go without putting it into something else yet. But nothing ever needs that much, even if you only take a little bit.”

 

“Wow, um… Wow, Ben,” Poe said, finally looking at him. His eyes were wide, and Ben could see more white than he would have liked.

 

“What?” His tone was too defensive.

 

“No, it’s nothing,” he said.

 

“It’s not.”

 

“No, really. That was just… very impressive, Ben.”

 

“If you say so.”

 

“I think… I think I hear my aunt calling us?” Poe said. It looked as if a tension had left him.

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah, come on, before she gets worried,” Poe said.

 

“Alright.”

 

Ben looked back on the tree and the dead nest as they left. _Tiny tragedies_. He frowned, but he didn’t know why.

 

*    *    *

 

The next day, after Ben had finished what his mother considered a “productive” amount of homework, he rushed over to Poe’s house. In the end, his parents had decided he couldn’t sleep over for that very reason, but it was barely noon now anyways.

 

Kes opened the door, smiling when he saw it was Ben.

 

“Poe’s in the kitchen,” he told Ben as he stepped inside, slipping his shoes off near the door. “He was hoping you’d come over.”

 

“Okay, thank you, Kes.” It was still weird to call him by his name alone.

 

“Of course,” he replied.

 

Poe was seated at their table, looking at something on his tablet.

 

“Hi,” Ben said. Poe’s head whipped up. A smile lit up his face and he bounded out of his chair, hugging Ben.

 

“Hi!” Poe said. “I was hoping you’d come.”

 

“Me too,” Ben said, wincing at the memory of the homework he’d just done. Poe gave him a weird look so he explained, and they both laughed.

 

“That’s one nice thing about Yavin-4,” Poe said. “There aren’t enough people for schools. So no homework.”

 

“I wish,” Ben sighed.

 

“Actually,” Poe considered. “I don’t know. I’ve always kind of wanted to go to school, just to see what it’s like. It gets really lonely.”

 

“It’s the worst,” Ben grumbled.

 

“Even still?” Poe asked, raising his eyebrows. “I’m an idiot! I can’t believe I never thought to ask how that was going until now.”

 

Ben snorted, “It’s fine. It’s not something we needed to talk about anyways. But yeah. They don’t… bother me anymore, but now everyone knows I’m the freaky Jedi kid. I feel like they hate me _more_ now because of my family. They used to like me because of it. It’s weird.”

 

Though, if Ben was honest, he sort of liked being the freaky Jedi kid.

 

Poe thought about this. “Well,” he concluded. “People can just be stupid and mean. If they actually tried to get to know you, beyond all the flashy stuff, they’d know you’re cool. And stuff.” Poe grinned.

 

It occurred to Ben that he hadn’t really tried to show them, either. Whatever. Had he been given even one opportunity, he might have.

 

“Do you want to go outside now?” Poe suggested. Ben nodded.

 

“We have to finish our mission, Lieutenant,” he said, giving Poe a half-smile.

 

“Oh, but of course, Jedi,” Poe said, elbowing him.

 

He slid the back door open. It was warm, of course, and the forecasts hadn’t predicted anything but sun for today. In Poe’s backyard were wooden structures his aunts had constructed when he was younger for him to play with. One of them was a sort of house, and that was the base. Another looked vaguely like some type of vehicle, so that was what Poe piloted. Most days, it was an A-wing, the type he had learned to fly in.

 

Ben went into the base and took out a stick - an old broom handle, actually. They had found it walking home from school one day, and had painted it to be an approximation of a lightsaber, complete with black handle and green blade.

 

“Okay, so,” Ben said, swinging the lightsaber back and forth. “What do we --” Poe was staring at him. “What?”

 

“How do you do that?”

 

“Do what?”

 

Poe pointed. “That, with your lightsaber. The twirly thing.”

 

Ben stared at his hand, watching the lightsaber go round in circles, as if his hand were an autonomous being.

 

“Oh, uh, I don’t know,” he said. “Does it bother you?”

 

“N-no. Of course not. It’s just cool,” Poe laughed.

 

“Oh. Um. Alright,” he said, though he now held it loosely in both hands. “But anyways, where did we leave off?”

 

“We could just start something new,” Poe suggested.

 

“Like what?”

 

“Well,” Poe said, “After that last mission, the Rebel base on Yavin is safe. So --”

 

“Do we need to keep doing Civil War stuff?” Ben asked.

 

Poe shrugged. “No, I don’t think so. Why?”

 

“Well, I was just thinking,” Ben said, “we could do something with the Clone Wars instead? I just learned about them in school, and there were more Jedi then too.”

 

Ben didn’t mind how they normally played at Jedi and rebel pilot during the most recent Civil War, but given that the only Jedi either of them knew of at the time was his uncle, it left him in an odd position. Normally he’d just make someone up for himself, but, well…

 

“Okay, but, I don’t know about those, so you’d have to explain.”

 

“Um, okay,” Ben said. He explained as best as he could remember from their history lessons this week. There was something very appealing to him about the drama of the Jedi order’s final stand. All that… history, he supposed, snuffed out so quickly. And orchestrated by one man? Incredible, how it fell. He didn’t understand his fascination. All he knew was, it was there, and he could exploit it through his and Poe’s pretend games.

 

When he finished, he stared at Poe expectantly. A breeze shook the leaves as a presence; Ben shivered.

 

“So were there… pilots on both sides?” Poe asked.

 

“ _Yes_ ,” Ben spat, frowning. “I mean --” _Woops_. “Yeah, I don’t see why there wouldn’t be.”

 

“So who do you want to be?”

 

“You always kind of play yourself, don’t you?” Ben suggested. Though, Ben got the feeling that was because Poe couldn’t come up with anything else, but he would never say that.

 

“Okay. Can I be a lieutenant still?”

 

Ben had to hold back his sigh. “Yeah, sure. I’ll just be a normal Jedi. I know there were other things to be but we didn’t learn about those, actually.”

 

As he’d expected, Poe couldn’t conceive of what type of story they could play out in their new setting. Ben, on the other hand, had been thinking of this for most of the week, so he was ripe with suggestions. They picked one -- a mission to retrieve some sort of vital intel -- and had at it. Sort of, anyways. This sort of game was always touch and go: a clarification here, a modification to duties or abilities there. Honestly, if Ben stopped to think about it (which he did, when Kes brought them snacks), they spent just as much time talking about what was going on as actually playing through it.

 

The sun was just beginning to set when Kes called for them to come back inside. Ben stashed his lightsaber back in the base (now doubling as the Jedi Temple on Coruscant) and ran after Poe.

 

“Sorry boys,” Kes told them. “Ben’s mother just called me and says he has to get home. Something about dinner.”

 

“He can’t stay with us for that?” Poe asked.

 

“Sorry, but no. You’re having family over, I think, Ben.” Ben’s eyes shot wide. He’d completely forgotten.

 

“Oh yeah! Um, bye, Poe,” he said, heading out the door. He realized about halfway back to his house that it was probably rude to leave that way.

 

*    *    *

 

“Uncle Luke!” Ben yelled. All the adults were sitting at the kitchen table when he’d gotten home, but he didn’t wait for them to notice him like he normally would. His uncle got up from his chair, showing Ben a huge grin. Ben embraced him with furtive urgency.

 

“Ben!” Uncle Luke greeted, ruffling his hair. “It’s so good to see you.”

 

“You too,” Ben said into his uncle’s robes. “I missed you.”

 

Uncle Luke pulled away, and Ben smiled up at him (not as far up as normal, though, he silently noted).

 

“I missed you too,” Uncle Luke said, still smiling. He sat back down at the table, and Ben took the seat next to him.

 

“Oh, it’s so nice to see you too Ben!” his father said, resting his chin on his interwoven fingers and giving Ben a sickly sweet smile. “I missed you too son!”

 

Ben grimaced. “Okay Dad. Hi to you too.”

 

His father snorted, “Alright, Ben.” He looked at the adults. “I’ll go check on dinner, if that’s alright with you.”

 

“Go ahead, hon,” his mother said.

 

Ben watched him get up. His eyes widened, and he twisted in his chair. “Wait, _you’re_ cooking dinner?” It was too bad. He had actually wanted to eat tonight, too.

 

His father gave him a sarcastic look. “What? No. I’m Dad.” Both Ben and Ben’s mother rolled their eyes simultaneously, but Uncle Luke gave a good-natured chuckle.

 

There was a beep, and his mother was checking her comm device. “Oop,” she said. “I guess I have a comm. I better take this.” She stood up. “Sorry!” she called, as she walked off.

 

So now, of course, there was only Ben and his uncle.

 

“You want to talk about Force things? Jedi stuff,” Uncle Luke stated.

 

It took Ben off guard. “Huh?” He shifted on his chair so one leg was tucked under him and he was facing his uncle.

 

Uncle Luke smiled. “I can sense it from you,” he told Ben.

 

“Oh.” Ben frowned. “How do you even do that?” he grumbled. “Both you and Mom do that so easily with me. And with each other. I don’t like it.”

 

Uncle Luke looked at him with mild concern. “Do you mean that you can’t sense other’s feelings with the Force? That’s all it is.”

 

Ben knit his brows together. “I…”

 

He thought of all the times he hadn’t realized someone was angry, or annoyed, or implying something. He thought of all the times, frustratingly, he had to be told what someone was feeling before he could understand why they acted the way they did. And even then, he didn’t always...

 

He sighed, “No. I don’t think so, anyways. Is that… bad? Does it mean I’m no good at the Force, if I can’t do something that simple?”

 

Uncle Luke shook his head. “No, not at all. Some things come easier to some force users than others. Force empathy is a very… common ability, but I would doubt it’s universal. I’m sure I can teach it to you, in any case. And anyways, I’m sure there are things you can do very easily that others can’t too. I know you’ve been reading the material I’ve been sending you, but have you been practicing at all?”

 

He thought of how he could occasionally pull random thoughts from people’s minds, if he tried. Ben nodded, some confidence returning. “All the time. But Mom and Dad don’t really know. I always work on it alone.”

 

Uncle Luke stretched his lips in a smile that was something near condescending, as if to say, _Don’t be so sure of that_. Ben frowned again.

 

“What kind of stuff?”

 

“Well, for a while, I was just trying to work on feeling the Force, since some of the stuff you sent said that was the stuff you needed to learn first. I wasn’t sure, because I could already do a lot of things pretty easily, but it actually did help.”

 

“Well, it would seem the masters knew some things,” Uncle Luke muttered.

 

“But now I’m really just actually practicing. I can move things real easily now. Even kind of big things, sometimes. And, um I can... I don’t know how to describe it. It’s like, um, I can put my energy into other things? And uh… I can move it around? And make things break apart, too. I don’t know. It was hard at first but I’ve been doing it a while now so it’s not that bad anymore.”

 

As Ben spoke, his uncle’s eyes widened until they were mostly whites. Ben finished and stared at him. “What? I know that’s not in the readings you sent, but a lot of that stuff I couldn’t do, and this is easier so I practice it more, because I figured you’d just teach it to me some time anyways.”

 

“I…” Uncle Luke breathed deeply one more time, looking very directly into Ben’s eyes. Ben looked away. “Ben, I’m really happy to hear that you’ve been so successful. But I need you to answer my question, and I _need_ you to be honest with me. You’re not in trouble, do you understand?”

 

Ben nodded, but he couldn’t help the feeling of betrayal that seeped through him.

 

“Alright. Are there times when using the Force is easier for you than others? Maybe when you’re happy, or stressed, or very calm?”

 

Ben didn’t need to give the question any thought. “When I’m angry or upset, mostly. You said I’m not in trouble, but… did I do something wrong, Uncle Luke? I don’t _mean_ for it to be easiest that way. It just is.”

 

His uncle reached out and placed a hand on Ben’s shoulder. He attempted a smile. “No, not at all Ben. You’re fine. This just means… our lessons will have to go a bit differently, that’s all. It’s an adjustment I must make.”

 

_Then why are you so worried about it_ , Ben thought. He pulled away from his uncle.

 

“Ben --”

 

“So we’ll have more lessons,” he said, concentrating on his hands.

 

“Of course. But, Ben --”

 

Just then his mother returned from her comm, apologizing again, and Uncle Luke apparently forgot whatever it was he was going to say.

 

*     *   *

 

That night Ben had another one of his dreams. He hadn’t had one in a while, so it was a surprise, but it wasn’t scary anymore or anything. He had reasoned that nothing was really that terrifying about a cloaked figure that never touched him and, more than that, never even said anything.

 

So when his dream about some great Force-filled adventure transitioned into gray nothingness, he met this change with resignation more than anything. He sat down, figuring if he was standing there must be some sort of floor there. With crossed legs and cheeks smushed into his hands, Ben waited for whatever it was to come observe him tonight.

 

After what felt like a good long while, the hooded creature finally approached. Well, it was more like it materialized in front of Ben, since he was just sort of _there_ one moment.

 

Ben stood up, crossing his arms. “You know, I was actually enjoying myself,” Ben complained. “You always do this during the ones I like best.”

 

As per usual, the figure said nothing and stood, watching him. Ben assumed it was watching, anyways. He’d never actually seen the thing’s face.

 

“The least you could do,” Ben continued, “Is do, I don’t know, _something_ . If you’re going to come into _my_ head and interrupt like this.” Ben thought for a moment. “You are coming _in_ , aren’t you? I guess I never thought about this, but you don’t seem like something I thought of.” Especially considering he hadn’t seen its face - if he’d imagined this, shouldn’t he at least know what it looked like? That gave him an idea.

 

He walked up to it, wondering how he’d never thought to do this before, and reached out. But before his hand got anywhere close to the hood, the thing’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. Ben gasped. Its grasp was cold, electric. It felt familiar and wrong. He wrenched his hand away and the thing immediately let him go. Ben took a step back.

 

It made a deep wheezing sound, which might have been a laugh.

 

“Alright,” it rasped, as if it hadn’t talked in a very long time.

 

The hood vaporized, and Ben got his first good look at… what he assumed was a man. He looked human. Sort of. His skin was deathly white, and, for as much as Ben had imagined he must look like some horrible monster, he honestly didn’t. He was old, and bald, and a deep scar distorted half of his face, so it kind of slumped. But other than that, it really wasn’t worse than anything else Ben had seen in his life.

 

The man licked his lips and stared at Ben. His eyes were wide and dark. The contrast gave him an odd, unnatural appearance. “Does this bother you?” he asked.

 

Ben shook his head. “It’s not uh, not as bad as I thought, actually,” he said. Something in the back of his mind counseled that maybe he should be a little nicer, but... he wasn’t sure. This wasn’t so bad.

 

“Good,” the man said. “Of course, since this is a still dream, I could appear to you however I wish. But I feel it would be deceitful to not show you my real appearance.”

 

“Oh, um, thanks, I guess.” Ben wasn’t really sure why it mattered.

 

“You’re ashamed,” the man stated.

 

“What?”

 

“The conversation with your… uncle, was it? Before your meal.”

 

“How do you know about that?” Ben asked, furrowing his brows.

 

The man attempted what Ben assumed was a smile. “I’m already in your head, aren’t I?”

 

That certainly seemed reasonable. Ben sat back down.

 

The man continued, “You have no need to be. Your are inordinarily strong in the Force. This is nothing to fear.”

 

Ben thought about that for a moment. He had nothing to compare it to, but other kids certainly seemed scared of him because of what he could do with the Force. And his uncle... had that been what that was? It was too strange to think of his Uncle Luke being scared of much of anything. Maybe that’s why he felt - What had the man said? - right, ashamed.

 

“I - I am?”

 

The man nodded. “As is your whole family. Though I sense that you are stronger than them still.”

 

Ben stared up at the man. _What?_

 

“Are you a Jedi?” Ben asked.

 

The man smiled crookedly once more. “No,” he said. “But I do know the Force. I’m... sensitive, I believe is the word your kind uses?”

 

“Then who are you?”

 

“Someone who wants to help you,” the man replied. “A friend, perhaps.”

 

“No, I --”

 

The man raised his hand, and Ben shut up.

 

“You may call me Snoke,” he said, then promptly... vanished, in a swirl of black smoke, as if his cloak had enveloped him.

 

*     *    *

 

The next morning, when Ben woke up, he laid in bed for a while and stared at the ceiling, thinking. He had been seeing -- er, what had he called himself? Oh right, Snoke. He had been seeing Snoke in his dreams for years at this point. For as long as he could remember his dreams. So then why… why was this the first time Snoke had done any more than stand and look at him?

 

_Maybe you dreamed up everything_ , Ben told himself. But he wasn’t so sure, and he didn’t know if that was what he wanted either. Sure, maybe Snoke was a bit... odd... but he hadn’t ever really done anything to Ben.

 

_He scared you when you were little_. Ben twisted up his sheets in his hands. That only lent stronger support to Snoke being made up. But then again, maybe there was something particular about last night? He tried to remember if anything had been different. He hadn’t been scared. Maybe Snoke was waiting for Ben to get used to him, so Ben wouldn’t be scared about how he looked. Maybe Snoke was self-conscious. Ben knew how that felt.

 

More importantly, was he actually stronger in the Force than other people? Again, he had no one to compare himself to besides his mother or uncle. He’d always assumed his uncle could do anything he was doing, and his mother could, too, but just chose not to. After all, since she was just a senator, what use did she have for abilities like what he’d done with the ants the other day? It had never occurred to him before to ask either of them about the extent of what they could do.

 

Well, he reminded himself, he didn’t even know all the things you could do with the Force, so how was he supposed to ask about that? He could ask about his family, though.

 

He nearly forgot he wanted to know about it until his father was clearing off the table, saying he needed to go meet someone to deal with something about pod racing. His mother and uncle stayed at the table to talk. Ben knew, from experience, that this could potentially last hours. Instead of slipping off to do something that was slightly less soul-sucking than listening to two adults have a conversation, he stayed in his seat, waiting for them to finish.

 

“Um, Mom? Uncle Luke?” Both turned to look at Ben, as if they hadn’t realized he was still there. “Can I ask you guys something?”

 

“What is it, Ben?” his mother said, tightly. For once, he didn’t let it phase him.

 

“I was just wondering about something. Are we, um, weirdly force sensitive?”

 

His uncle glanced at his mother, then back at Ben. “What do you mean?”

 

“Like... are we more, I guess, good - um, no, like, powerful, maybe, with the Force than other people?”

 

His mother stared at him. “Did someone say we were?”

 

“No,” Ben lied. He could feel himself blushing. Damn. “Not exactly. I mean, some kids have said, um, you know, some things about you, Uncle Luke, but I think that’s because you’re a like, Jedi.” At least the last part was true.

 

There was a pause. Ben tried to make his blush go away, but it didn’t feel like it was working. Now _that_ would be a useful Force power. Ben got the feeling they were talking without talking, but he wasn’t sure that was something you could do. It seemed like you probably could. His mother glared at his uncle with such intensity, Ben was surprised Uncle Luke wasn’t actively melting all over the floor.

 

His mother must have won, because it was his uncle who spoke first. “Honestly, Ben, neither of us are entirely certain. There’s so much we can’t know about the Force and force users anymore. Have you learned about the Civil War yet in school?”

 

“No. Why?”

 

“Before that, there were a lot of Jedi, and a lot of force users in general. It was a very normal, common thing to know someone who was sensitive. But now it’s not, and written records aren’t very helpful. Planets like Chandrila have a lot of information on galactic history, but the center of this stuff was in Coruscant, and almost everything there was destroyed by the Empire.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“But,” his mother said, “From what we can tell, that’s a very real possibility. Both of us displayed sensitivities from when we were very young, like you, but what you can do far surpasses either of our capabilities then. Then again, though, that might just be because you’re aware of what you can do, and you know how to practice it. That’s a privilege neither of us were afforded.”

 

Ben nodded. The realization of the reality of history was new to him; something which he wasn’t sure could be fully grasped.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said, because that seemed like the right thing to say.

 

“Oh, sweetheart,” his mother said, “please, don’t be. There’s nothing to be done but deal with what we’ve been given. But now you understand something of the difficulties we both face in our lines of work.”

 

“Sure,” Ben agreed. He wasn’t sure he did.

 

Ben looked over at his uncle as something appeared to pass over his face. He sighed, as if resigned.

 

“I think you should know, though,” he began. His mother gave his uncle a look and shook her head, but Uncle Luke ignored this tension and continued. “No, you should,” he stated. “We do very much know that your grandfather - our father - was an extremely powerful force user.”

 

“I have a grandfather?” Ben asked, blinking. It sounded like a stupid question, but considering neither of his parents ever talked about _their_ parents, and he’d certainly never met them before, it felt reasonable.

 

“Um... of course you do,” Uncle Luke said. “Leia, you never told him?”

 

“I didn’t think he was ready,” his mother retorted. “And, thank you very much, I still don’t.”

 

“Um, why wouldn’t I be?” What was so wrong about knowing he had a grandfather?

 

“Nevermind that,” his mother dismissed, crossing her arms. “It certainly doesn’t matter _now_.”

 

“It matters to me,” Ben murmured. He absolutely _hated_ when adults assumed his incapacity.

 

“What was that Ben?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“Then that’s enough for now. No, I don’t want to hear it. You have a book report to work on, now _go_.”

 

He stared at his uncle, silently pleading. But Uncle Luke didn’t return his gaze, and Ben sighed, knocking over his chair as he left and ignoring his mother when she yelled at him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We all that part of history we were obsessed with as a kid, usually for no particular reason. Should be harmless enough, right?

**“Stay obsessed. That thing you can’t stop thinking about? Keep indulging it. Obsession is the better part of success. You will be great at the things that you can’t not do.”**

**-Adam Savage**

 

Ben, at thirteen years old, could actually say he was enjoying school. Nothing had drastically changed since his third levels, now that he was in his seventh - he still didn’t have many friends, he still had to learn about subjects he found useless, and he still felt his time would be better spent solely training with his uncle.

And then there was history class. After their winter break they’d begun learning about the Galactic Civil War. They’d discussed the causes, the important events, and now, since the beginning of this month, the important people.

Instructor Plaris had begun the month with leaders of the Rebellion. That was something of a surreal experience, considering how many people Ben had met or knew. Though, this being Chandrila, most kids in his class knew Senator Mothma, and some other assorted Chandrilan names.

Perhaps the oddest lesson was on his uncle. It wasn’t exclusively about Luke; they discussed the nature that the Force had played in the war more than anything. It was weird to be talking about someone he knew so intimately, and it was uncomfortable the way he  _ knew  _ everyone else in class kept glancing at him, seeing how he’d react. So far as any of them knew, he and Wespete were the only force sensitive kids, but Wespete wasn’t related to any Jedi. For a few days, at least, he was in vogue once again.

And it occurred to Ben, in ways he wasn’t sure he could express, the modern nature of this conflict. The Clone Wars were recent, but fifty years wasn’t less than ten. For the first time, as they learned about the damage and the fallout, he felt his family’s presence. Their hands on all sides, and it was a pressure, bearing down on him. He wondered, now, when he sat and ate dinner with his family, how they were so completely normal. He thought about it when his parents drove him to school, helped him with his homework, yelled at him to do his chores.

He knew this was not the life any of them had grown up with. It was not the way they’d lived for most of their lives. And yet they chose this. A quiet domesticity with all the trappings of a quiet Chandrilan life. His Uncle Luke, he understood. He’d been raised like Ben, in a regular family (though perhaps on a less regular planet). He’d learned he wasn’t like them, though, and chose to do something  _ more _ , a choice he continued to make.

And then there was still the enigma of his grandfather. Ben wondered often about him, but after the initial conversation, his mother and uncle had refused to say more.

“Why do you keep asking? You don’t need to know more,” his mother had snapped while making dinner.

“Ben, please, I know you’re curious, but it's not something I think we need to discuss,” his uncle had told him, gently but with an obvious finality in the middle of meditation.

He’d taken it upon himself, then, to figure this out. But the databases were still sparse and vague more often than not. He had found something about someone named Anakin Skywalker, an old Jedi knight and general in the Clone Wars. He couldn’t be sure if this was anyone he was even related to, though.

“Skywalker?” Poe had asked, after Ben had told him about it. “Are you related to him?”

For Ben’s birthday, Poe had scrounged up an old biography on Anakin, published while he was still a Jedi. It wasn’t particularly long or detailed - more of a profile, really - but it was filled with things Ben didn’t know, and he’d already read it more than once.

He’d actually been talking about it to one of his friends when they were called in from lunch. They grabbed their tablets and shuffled back to their tables as Instructor Plaris dimmed the lights.

“Alright, alright,” Instructor Plaris said, leaning on his desk, in the front. “Let’s get back to the important things, shall we?” He tapped a pad on its surface and the screen on the wall next to him lit up. “DARTH VADER” the slide informed them. An imposing picture was next to the text; a man dressed in a completely black suit, with his hands on his hips so his cape flared out dramatically. He opened his tablet and found the worksheet he’d need, like the others had done.

“So, in keeping with recent themes, today we’re going to talk about one of the most terrible figures in recent history - Darth Vader.” The slide changed to “WHO HE WAS”. Instructor Plaris stood up and began to pace around them. “Most of you have probably at least heard of him before, but you probably aren’t aware of more than that. So, let’s begin with the basics. Unfortunately, much of the specifics before Vader’s rise to power within the Empire isn’t known. We know he was likely a Jedi before becoming a Sith lord, since that’s typically been how they come about. And we know he was somewhere between forty and sixty when he died. We believe he was human.”

In the middle of writing his answer to “WHAT SPECIES WAS DARTH VADER?”, a boy, Jehn, raised his hand. Instructor called on him. “Yes, Jehn?”

“If he’s so famous, how come we don’t know anything about him?” Ben looked at him.

“Good question. For one thing, this is all very recent history. We haven’t had enough time just yet to even be able to find the information we’d need to know more. If he was a Jedi, their temple and library on Coruscant was destroyed during the war, so we can’t look there. Even if we did, there would probably still be difficulty because Sith almost always take a new name. Darth Vader was likely not what his mother named him.”

The class laughed at that.

“In any event, let’s talk about why he was so feared.” The slide changed again to “WHAT HE DID”. “Vader didn’t have an official military ranking, but was probably somewhere around general-status. As we’ve already discussed, the Empire was absolute evil, and Vader contributed a good deal to this reputation. Palpatine, of course, commanded the Empire in its entirety, but it appears that he trusted Vader more than anyone else, likely because Vader was also an extremely powerful force user.”

The screen flipped to a video. On it, Darth Vader stood in a hallway - probably on a star destroyer - and picked up a storm trooper. “Picked up” wasn’t quite the right word, actually. One moment, the storm trooper was standing in front of Vader; the next, they were lifted off their feet and flung across the hall. They crumpled in the corner and didn’t move. Vader turned around and the video cut out. The screen switched back to a normal slide, listing off various events Vader was known for. Ben’s jaw was on his desk by the end of it.

“That was a video taken by a Rebel during the war. Not all of you are familiar with this, of course, but that was a very impressive use of the Force. Isn’t that right, Wespete, Ben?” He eyed them each. “Ben certainly seems like he knows it.”

“Yeah,” Ben said, trying to maintain composure, “lifting a whole person takes a lot.” The last time he’d seen Poe, about two weeks ago now, he’d tried to move Poe. He could get him a couple inches off the ground for a couple seconds, but nothing more.

“It really is,” Wespete interjected, nodding. Ben rolled his eyes. Maybe that won him some points with the other kids, but it wasn’t like he’d  _ ever  _ be able to do anything that powerful.

“Thank you, boys,” their instructor continued, “I know we’ve already touched on this, but I think I should reiterate the idea that had we all been in this class fifty years ago, we all would have known more force users than just Ben or Wespete In fact, Ben wouldn’t have been the only one in class to know a Jedi.” Ben’s face felt like it was burning like the double suns on Tatooine.

“The Empire, as we all remember, committed crimes on a genocidal order, and Vader was as implicit as any other leader in this. But what separates Vader in his evil from every other imperial leader is that fact specifically. It’s no accident that, so far as we know, Vader and Palpatine were the only powerful force users leading the Empire. Palpatine did most of the work in destroying the old Jedi Order, but Vader led many Inquisitorial Squads. They viciously hunted down force users, regardless of species, civilian status, or ability. They tortured users and non-users to try and get them to tell the Empire where other users might be hiding. No matter what they said, it always ended with the accused murdered.”

He heard gasps, he heard deep breaths. Ben hastily scrawled an answer to “WHAT IS DARTH VADER KNOWN FOR?” before the subject could be changed. Too late, but he still rose his hand, heart pounding in his ears.

Instructor Plaris paused. “Yes, Ben?”

“Um, Instructor Plaris, how did they torture people?”

Instructor thought for a moment, probably deciding whether or not to answer this at all. But Ben didn’t know when else or how else to ask, so... 

“Well,” he finally answered, “I don’t want to go too into the details - not that there are too many to go into - but there are substantial reports to indicate that torture was Force-based. Now, I’m not sensitive, so I couldn’t really tell you how that works. Anyways, now let’s talk about some of the origin theories.”

*    *    *

Ben walked home that day, sweating from the unusually hot weather. His bag made his shirt to stick to his back. After a minute of shifting it various ways, he decided he didn’t care and used the Force to float it alongside him. (Being able to move while using the Force was somewhat new, but about as hard as anything else he’d tried.)

So Darth Vader was… cool? Interesting? Completely and utterly awesome?

But what about the objective language that had been used? Instructor Plaris had been uncomfortable because of his question. And... thinking back on it, everyone had been upset by what Instructor talked about.

So why wasn’t he? He slowed down, and his bag shook next to him. He snatched it back. Because he was more than them, pretty much. More  _ what _ , exactly? He wiped the sweat from his forehead. Well... it didn’t matter.

For once, home was a welcome sight.

“I’m home!” he called, force-pushing the door closed. He slipped off his shoes and threw his bag by the door.

“In here,” came the response, probably from the living room. Ben was correct; his father sat, tinkering with something on the couch. He looked up, smiling at Ben. “Hey kid. How was school?”

“Really good! Well, math wasn’t. But everything else was.”

“Really?”

“Um, yes?” The grin his father wore was -- “What?”

“Nothing,” his father laughed, “I’m just happy to hear that.” He put down what he’d been working on. “So what did you learn that was so good?”

Ben shifted, shrugged. “I dunno. History was cool. And other stuff.”

“Other stuff? That was always my favorite subject in school.”

Ben looked at him skeptically. “You went to school? I thought you said th-”

“Relax, Ben,” his father interrupted. “I was just joking. Do you have homework to get done?”

Ben flopped forward on the couch and groaned, “I thought you were supposed to be the fun one.”

“Oh, I am. This is plenty fun for me.” He ruffled Ben’s hair. “Now  _ go _ . Or your dinner goes to the wookie.” That threat was old, something his parents and uncle had used since he was little to get him to do what they wanted. He could still remember a time, not so long ago, when it worked.

“Uncle Chewie’s not even here!” Ben yelled as stomped down the hall to his room. He pulled his bag and caught it.

He refused to submit, and he didn’t look back. But he could feel his father’s eyes on him. He slammed the door after him. Why did they  _ do  _ that? Why did they always hate when he used his abilities? Even Uncle Luke could be weird about it sometimes. He still didn’t get it, but he had the feeling that even if he asked, no one would tell him.

His grandfather probably never had to deal with that, as a Jedi and all, he thought, falling back onto his bed. That was what he wanted, he realized. Things might feel  _ right  _ if he could just... He grimaced. He hated to put a name to things, but that was the truth. He knew at the basest level that he would feel alright if he could just finally  _ train  _ with his uncle. No more periodic lessons, or half-interested tutelage.

He rubbed at his eyes. The last time Uncle Luke had come, it hardly felt like he wanted to be there. Ben didn’t know why, but he knew it hurt to think that his uncle wouldn’t want to help him. He told himself that maybe something was going on in his uncle’s life that had nothing at all to do with him, and sometimes he’d believe that, but the feeling lingered.

Sighing, he slid off his bed and opened up his bag. He hated to admit it, but his father was right - he did, indeed, have homework. Not much, but a math worksheet was just about the most painful thing he could have thought of.

_ Alright, so, what do you have to compare this to _ ? he attempted, staring off in the middle of question twenty. Uncle Luke was incredibly even-keeled, at least compared to the rest of his family.  _ And yourself _ , he begrudgingly chided. He erased the work on stupid problem twenty for the third time. The screen creaked from the weighted push of his stylus.

His father, though. Well, Uncle Luke’s father, his grandfather. His mother, no surprise, had been pretty seriously angry when she’d explained things. Uncle Luke, on the other hand, had had a... tightness to him, that Ben only just now realized was there. No, it was more like a, a --

_ Ahhh, bitterness _ .  _ That’s it _ .

Luke had tried to hide it, but his father was an unpleasant thought to him. There was nothing like that when they’d last been training. At least, he didn’t  _ think  _ so... It could be so hard to tell with these kinds of things. How did other people manage? And how was he going to manage solving this problem? For the time being, he switched over to his literature homework. Not hard, just stiflingly boring. Wonderful.

He spun around in his desk chair. They all clearly didn’t like this man. After the lesson today, he could understand that. Like seventy-five percent of it, he could understand. Okay, maybe more like fifty. In any case, was it weird for him, then?

“You’re farther from it, you can think more clearly about it,” he muttered to himself. That seemed about right, actually. He had the facts. And, bottom line: he remembered the video clip. How powerful Darth Vader was. All the consequences of such power. That was... well, he didn’t know. But he knew it filled him with good feelings.

The main thing was, it was all very big and he was a part of it, if he thought about it the right way. He turned back to his reading, a short story about a Chandrilan boy or something. Again, it was boring and pointless. When would he ever need to know how to annotate something correctly? Well, he sort of did that with the Jedi readings he got, but still. Not the most useful skill he could be working on.

He was only mostly part of it, he realized as his tablet dropped on his desk. How could he be so stupid? The mostly bothered him. The mostly was his father. That side had nothing to it, did it? His father fought in the war, but he wasn’t --

“Ben!” his father called. “Dinner!”

*    *    *

He stared at the food on the kitchen counter. He looked at his father.

“You did this?”

His father continued making a plate for himself. “Sure did,” he replied.

“And you expect me to eat this?”

“Sure do.”

“Um.”

Han looked at him, putting on some sort of pained look. “Ben, please. You need to eat.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, immediately grabbing a plate. It was pretty rude of him to insult his father like that, even if this probably wouldn’t be that good. At least he was trying, he supposed. “It smells good.”

“Thanks,” his father said, sitting down at the kitchen bar. “I think Chewie did a pretty good job.”

Ben paused, mid-scoop of vegetables. “What?” He turned around.

Han looked at him like he didn’t understand. “You heard me.” He took a bite and looked back down at his food.

Ben pushed out a displeased noise, loud as he could, and pretty much dropped his plate down.

“Ben,” his father reproached.

“It didn’t break,” he grumbled.

They ate in silence for a few minutes. That was fine by Ben. It wasn’t as if his father had anything  _ important  _ to say, ever. All he ever did was make stupid jokes and talk to Ben about things he didn’t care about. Never relevant, never intelligent, never worthwhile. He cut at his meal like it was the one that had offended him.

“Are you okay?”

“What?” Ben asked, wide-eyed.

“You’re glaring at your milk.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“ _ Yes _ .” Ben swallowed. “I mean, yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

“I was only trying to joke around with you earlier. I’m not horrible enough of a dad to make you eat something I actually made, you know that, right?”

Did he really think -- ? His smile was positively awful.

“Yeah, I, I  _ know _ ,” he said.

“Alright kid,”his father said, too quietly.

Han left him alone until the meal was over. “Help me clean up?”

“Alright,” Ben said, because that was actually fine. Though he still didn’t --

“Hey, Dad, can I ask you something?” he blurted.  _ Woops. _

“Of course,” his father said. “Pass me that plate, though?”

He did, then continued, “How come I’ve never met your side of the family?” His face felt hot. He attempted recovery. “It’s just, it feels like all the other kids I know have really big families, but I don’t know any of our relatives besides Uncle Luke, really.”

Han stared at him for a moment, and Ben wasn’t sure he understood. He continued washing his plate.

“Your mother told me you’d started asking about this,” he chuckled. “I guess I should have expected it.”

“I - I’m sorry, I did --”

“You’re  _ fine _ , kid.  _ Relax _ . I’m sorry to tell you it’s not as exciting as your mother’s half though. I didn’t know my parents very long, and I didn’t have any more family after that.”

“Oh.”

He had tried to keep his tone casual, but Ben knew he wasn’t imagining something sad in his father’s voice. He couldn’t imagine how it wouldn’t be. Still, it was disappointing.  _ And annoying _ . It was more than what he’d expected, which was better and worse.

“It’s okay,” his father told him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He looked at the hand, cracked from working too much and too heavy. He looked up. “I have you, and your mother. Don’t forget how lucky you are, Ben.”

*    *    *

Ben had trouble getting to sleep that night. He couldn’t make his brain shut  _ up _ , and so he didn’t feel very tired. At some point, he could feel when his mother was close. Well, close was a relative term. She was in their township, but he knew for sure she’d be able to sense him before she even got in their neighborhood. He tried even harder to just go to sleep, because at this point it was getting annoying more than anything. He told himself that he really needed to remember to ask Uncle Luke how to not keep his energies or whatever so open to other users.

Things were screaming out in the trees. He tried listening to them. He could probably feel them, if he wanted. But that was too much right now, and probably wouldn’t end well. It was still so tricky to get inside another living thing and just be. It was too easy to mess around, to slip in concentration and ruin something. And even if you didn’t kill it, he thought, you might still end up --

“Ughhhh,” he groaned. “ _ Stop _ .”

Enough history, enough family, enough Force. He needed to --

The front door clicked open. Ben sighed. He couldn’t think of anything more exciting than being yelled at right now. He threw his efforts to fall asleep into overdrive. But she never came. Instead, an alternative which wasn’t much better decided that now was the time to present its ugly self.

He heard his parents talking about something. He strained, but couldn’t make it out until:

“Oh, and you thought that was such a great idea?” His mother.

“What? Do you  _ really  _ think --” And then his father.

“Yes! I do! It’s not concerning to you at all? I  _ warned  _ you.”

“And I  _ told  _ you, I barely said anything! Hell, Leia, you think I didn’t think about what to tell him and how to do it?” Was this about him?

“I think you’re --” It was back to murmurs again. And if he really, really thought about it -- he’d felt her. In all honestly, Ben was surprised they’d gotten that far without his mother realizing he could hear. He  _ really  _ needed to ask Luke about getting some privacy.

And he really... he groaned. He was too tired for this.

*    *    *

Everything was white. That was no good. Ben concentrated until it appeared as his backyard. That was more comfortable, he supposed. It was overcast, and kind of cold. He guessed that was what his subconscious liked, maybe because the actual weather was never this pleasant.

So he was sleeping? Well, at least he’d accomplished that much. That was good, he thought, nodding to himself.

He looked at his dream-house. This whole lucid control thing still was pretty new to him, though it was a decidedly positive change. The house flickered, was blurry on the edges, like everything here, like it couldn’t decide if it wanted to exist or not. Which, he supposed, was how everything looked in dreams or when you imagined it, but you never got to get a good look at it. Or maybe he was just bad at creating a mental landscape.

He sat under the tree in the middle of the yard, rested against it and waited. He tried to dream up a tablet, but nothing happened. So he wasn’t that good yet.

If this hadn’t been a dream, he would’ve fallen asleep by the time Snoke finally appeared. It wasn’t that Ben saw him immediately. There was just... a noticeable change -- in the air, maybe -- when he came around. It might’ve had something to do with the terror he formerly associated with Snoke; Ben didn’t really know. He stood up and Snoke was there, in front of him.

“Hello, Ben,” he said placidly.

There were no hoods anymore. Well, there were, Snoke just didn’t put them up now. He was always the same: an overlong black tunic, black pants, black boots. It was weird that someone who seemed so old was so upright (or up _ tight _ ), but Ben always assumed it was just Snoke appearing however he wanted, like he’d said during their first conversation.

“Um, hey, Snoke,” Ben responded. “How’s it... how are you?” He internally winced.

Snoke didn’t seem to mind, though. “Just fine. More importantly, how are you feeling?”

“I... I’m fine?” He shot for conviction, but had an immediate understanding he’d missed.  _ Damn _ . Snoke peered at him. Their surroundings seemed fuzzier for a moment.

“I do not appear to you by some cosmic accident, Ben. I only enter your mind when you are most open to me. I know, by this, that you are not entirely fine.” He paused, as if to let it sink it. He continued, “I believe I’ve also made it clear now that I only wish to help you.”

That was true, at least. During their second or third meeting, Snoke had explained that he knew the Force well enough to guide Ben through his training in ways his Uncle Luke might not be able to. Ben wasn’t sure what that meant, but he was intensely curious about what Uncle Luke could possibly be ignorant to, when it came to the Force. Further, and at the very least, Snoke hadn’t done anything to harm him.

_ Would he leave you alone, though, if you asked him to?  _ something inside nagged. He shooed it for now.

“I wasn’t thinking about you, though,” Ben replied. “At least, I don’t think I was.”

Snoke shook his head. “This isn’t what I meant, Ben.”

“Then what -” Snoke held up his hand, as always, and Ben shut up.

“Think on it later, and you’ll understand. Presently, however, you still haven’t told me how you actually feel. I can help you in this regard also, if you allow me.”

Ben considered that. He’d never told anyone about his home life, not the bad stuff, anyways. He didn’t even talk about it with Poe. So was he really going to open up to Snoke? Or, a better question, was there anyone else he could really open up to?

“You can’t just... tell how I feel? Or tell me how I feel, is more like it,” he said.

Snoke smiled, probably with the intention (or maybe assumption) of good-naturedness. It still looked misplaced on him, though. “I could, if I tried. Would you prefer that?”

“What? No,” Ben said. “Of course not. My mom  _ always  _ does that and I hate it. I think she feels, I dunno, like she’s allowed because she’s my mom.” He looked at Snoke, waited for a reply; he didn’t give one. Ben continued, “That’s the problem, anyways. My parents. I guess I’m mad because of them”

He bit his nail, became conscious of this action, shook his hand away. He realized only belatedly that it wasn’t his actual nail and didn’t actually matter. Snoke remained silent, like he was waiting for Ben to say something in particular.

“They’re just always fighting, you know? Which isn’t that much of the time because they’re hardly ever both home. I don’t mind  _ that  _ so much, since both of them at once is a lot because of um, what I just said. But um... they don’t, I don’t know, sometimes I think it feels like they must not care about how I feel about any of this. You’d think, you know, that they’d  _ know  _ that I don’t like it when they scream at each other. When they realize I’m around they usually get quieter, but it’s like…” He took a breath. Snoke continued to stare, benignly.

Oh well. “What I’m trying to say, I think, is that I... don’t remember a time when they weren’t uh, this way. I don’t know what it would be like to live in a um, a, uh, a house where I’m happy. I mean, I,  _ they  _ take good enough care of me. But I don’t particularly, like,  _ love  _ either of them. It’s... weird to think about it that way, even just the thought isn’t really... I mean, if I could choose, I’d have  _ them  _ be my aunt and uncle and and my  _ uncle  _ could be my dad instead, if that makes any sense. I don’t know. Is that what you were looking for?”

Snoke put on a smile for Ben once more, as if that helped whatever this was feel normal. He didn’t mind having Snoke around, but he doubted part of Uncle Luke’s Jedi training had ever been meeting with strange men in his dreams. Or talking about his feelings with those strange men.

“Yes, Ben,” Snoke said, though it sounded like it was more to himself than Ben. “That will do quite nicely.”

His eyes turned towards Ben; he held up his hand. “My advice is this: your feelings are legitimate. If you were to tell your parents what you’ve just told me, I suspect you know they would not be quite so receptive to what you have to say.” Ben nodded - there was no denying that. “I, on the other hand, firmly believe that these feelings will be useful. Hold onto them.”

“What? You don’t want me to -”

“To get over it?” He showed Ben what was likely his approximation of a knowing smile. “You told me yourself you feel the Force most strongly when you have access to feelings such as these, did you not? Your uncle is very wise and strong in the Force; there is no denying this. But I doubt he’d ever tell you this: these feelings -- your anger and pain -- can be a great well of energy. Nor is it wrong for you to use them as such. That is a very... narrow view of the Force. Do you understand?”

Ben thought for a moment. “I, I think so?”

“It’s alright if you don’t. I wouldn’t expect you to, fully. Not yet. But you will.”

“Okay,” Ben said, crossing his arms.

“Oh, and, before I forget, Ben.”

“Um, yeah?”

“You might consider asking your mother about the history you’ve been learning. She may have a valuable perspective.”

“Wh -” His backyard began to darken and Snoke began to fade. “I mean, I was planning to! But I, I don’t --”

“Until we meet again, Ben,” Snoke said, and melded into the gathering darkness.

*    *    *

He awoke that morning covered in sweat. His room was stiflingly hot and smelled like - oh, that was him, wasn’t it? He smacked his cracked lips. His mouth tasted gross, too. All signs pointing to the universe telling him he couldn’t sleep in on this day off. He sighed. What did the universe know?

Ben stumbled to the refresher, washed, and journeyed to the kitchen to see if anyone had made breakfast yet. His mother, in a grand twist, seemed to be in the middle of just that.

“Oh, hello, Ben,” she greeted cheerfully, though without looking away from whatever it was she was making on the stove.

“Hey Mom.” He sat at the counter. “I didn’t know you were back yet.”

She paused, minisculely. If he hadn’t been staring so intently at her, he would have missed any cessation at all.

“Oh, really?” she answered, still cheerful. “Yeah, I came in pretty late last night. You didn’t hear?”

“What? No. Why would I have?”

Tension seemed to evaporate from her. Was she relieved that he wasn’t angry about his parents fighting?

“Oh, no reason sweetheart.” She turned around to him, and her expression became one of concern. “Honey, did you have trouble sleeping last night?”

“No,” he snapped. “I told you, I didn’t hear --”

“It’s o _ kay _ , Ben. I believe you. Maybe you’re coming down with something.”

He gave her a confused look. “Do I look that bad?”

She came to him and kissed him on the forehead. “No, of course not, sweetie.” Her breath smelled awful. “Now, how do you feel about some breakfast?”

His mother actually did know something about making breakfast, he had to admit. What she  _ didn’t  _ know was what a good day off should look like. And dragging him on errands immediately following their meal was definitely not that. According to her, she had to meet with another senator to pick up some documents or something, and this senator apparently lived a good half hour away.

“Why couldn’t you just have him  _ send  _ the files to you?” Ben had whined, as his mother had pushed him out the door.

“I told you, Ben,” she had replied, calm as ever (which only made it worse, and they both knew it), “Government documents like these  _ can’t  _ be sent like that. It’s too dangerous.”

The first ten minutes saw his mother obliviously driving whilst Ben stared moodily out the window. The first five of those, he spent trying to look as cross as he could. For the next five, he remembered there were things he actually wanted to talk to his mother about, but he felt he needed to wait a good amount of time. He felt silly getting so angry already, but the best he could do for himself would be to at least give the appearance of legitimizing his feelings for a while longer.

When the scene felt well enough set, he turned to her and said, “Hey Mom, can I ask you about something? About -- about your job.” He added the last hastily. She glanced sideways at him.

“Sure,” she said, and apparently this was acceptable to her. “What is it you want to know? I won’t lie, though, I’m surprised you want to talk about this. You never seemed interested before, not even when I took you to the Senate.”

The temperature of Ben’s face probably matched the outside right about now. “I, um, I wasn’t really, before. Ah. Sorry.” He took a covert look at her, but she didn’t seem upset. “But uh, we learned a lot of interesting history this level, and I guess I was just wondering -- well, you were alive during the last Civil War, right? So you um, you must... I. How do I say this?” He chewed one of his nails.

“It’s alright,” she reminded him. “Stop chewing your nails.”

He wiped his hand quickly on his pants. “Ah, um, right. Sorry.” He began to tug at his earlobe. “Anyways, I was just wondering, I guess, does what happened then affect what you do now at all? I mean, like, what do you normally even do?”

She raised her eyebrows. “You didn’t learn about governmental structure yet?”

“I think that’s next level,” he said.

“Oh. Well, it affects pretty much everything we’re dealing with now. If I had to put a number on it, I’d say ninety percent of everything we act on is a direct result of the Civil War.” For a moment, there was only the quiet whirring of their ship. Then, she continued, “You might have gotten a sense of this from your history lessons -- and I don’t think you understand how weird it is to hear you talk about that as  _ history _ \-- but what led up the Civil War, and everything during, it changed everything about how the galaxy was run. I mean, this was a war that completely  _ dec _ imated the galaxy. It destroyed ancient cultures, civilizations and sometimes, even, entire planets. Everything was entirely disrupted. And we won, which is definitely the important thing, but now there’s a billion and one pieces we have to try to put back together.

“And so many of us don’t remember what it was like before the war. We learned how -- we came of  _ age during  _ \-- the war; we learned how to lead in a war. So many of us are still trying to figure out what a democracy during peacetime looks like. We’re trying not to repeat the mistakes of the last Republic without even fully knowing what that was like. It’s a process, but if there’s one thing similar to fighting the war, it’s probably all the guesswork. Again, there’s a lot of us, and a lot of political experience and perspectives among us, but we still make mistakes. And some days, it feels like the only thing we’re making is mistakes. But I think that one day we’ll do what we need to, and order will be restored. I just don’t even know if that will be in my lifetime.”

“Wh- really?”

“Ooooh yeah,” she said, nodding slowly. “The Civil War caused a lot of damage on its own, but there was never a full recovery from the Clone Wars. And even before that, well, things had been broken in the previous Republic for a while.”

“That sounds... really hard. I’m sorry,” Ben confessed.

“Oh, honey, it’s not your fault,” his mother said, the corners of her mouth just upturned, as if that was all she could do. “There’s nothing better I could be doing, you know?”

“I - I know. I…” He made a decision. “So what are these files about? What are you doing right now?”

“Well, those are two very different questions Ben,” she said. “As for the files, they have to do with a proposition for creating a new committee. What’s left of the Empire -- though a lot of senators don’t want to believe it -- some of us are sure that what’s left is only pretending to follow the Concordance. You know what that is?”

“Uh.”

“Basically just a treaty the ARR - which is the New Republic now - signed with the Empire. It issued their surrender, said what they could or couldn’t do, that kind of thing. But some of us think that they’re violating it, just in ways we’re not necessarily seeing. So we’re trying to form a new committee - it would be, probably, the ‘Senate Intelligence Committee’ or something charming like that. But anyways, it would just help us to gather information and determine if the Empire will be a threat in the future or not.”

“Wait, so, there are still some left?”

“Of the Empire? Unfortunately,” she scoffed. “We were able to try a lot of the top officials we could get our hands on, but you know, it would’ve been impossible to round up everyone. Well anyways, does that answer your question?”

“I think so,” Ben said. “Sorry, it’s just -”

“A lot to digest?”

“Mhm.”

Their ship began to slow. “Oop,” his mother commented. “Guess we’re here.”

The house was, of course, the same as all Chandrilan houses, but Ben couldn’t deny it was a particularly pretty shade of blue. He started to climb out, but his mother put an arm across his chest. He looked at her.

_ What? _

She showed him one the warmest smiles he’d ever seen from her, twisting her face in uncomfortable ways.

“Thank you,” she said. “For asking. Love you.” She hugged him and then they got out.

If Ben was honest, he thought, watching from a few paces behind as she walked up to the door, if he had ever been honest at all, he was only really confused.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fourteen is just, like, an edgy age for all of us. It'll probably just pass, right?

**“Maybe the journey isn’t about becoming anything. Maybe it’s about unbecoming everything that isn’t you, so you can be who you were meant to be in the first place.”**

**-India Ame’ye**

 

Ben was aware that he’d never been like them.

 

At first, that knowledge had only taken the form of the Force. And it had been powerful and glittering, even when he was othered by it. He could take pride in his ability, and in the inklings of an historical gigantism to which he was connected. It had consumed him - and still did - long hours of increasingly structured practice and an interest, primarily, in what could be.

 

Because that was the heart of it -- not who he was today, but who he could one day become.

 

Lately, he had come to understand that, while his original assumptions about the Force weren’t  _ incorrect _ , he’d also overstated them. More correctly: Ben, at the age of fourteen, doubted he ever would be like them.

 

His mother and father tried to assure him that it was only the adolescent awkwardness everyone experienced, and that one day he’d grow out of it. Perhaps they were right; Ben had the self awareness to know he could at times be dramatic. But every day at school that he observed his classmates chipped away at what certainty that statement might have held. And every time he spent time with Poe and was able to experience how he navigated any situation with such effortless ease lent support to his original idea. In the end, regardless of anything else, he supposed he only concretely knew that he regretted telling his parents anything in the first place.

 

Conversations and niceties and making friends were in languages which he had not been taught. He had tried to approach Poe about the subject. They’d been taking a walk through the woods.

 

“Hey, can I ask you about something?” Ben had said.

 

“Mmmmaybeee,” Poe had drawled.

 

Ben had mock-punched him, and Poe had pretended to be hurt. “C’mon.”

 

“Yeah, alright,” he had laughed. “What is it?”

 

“Just... do you ever feel like people are hard to understand? Like, um, they just sort of… do things and you don’t always get it? But -- but it seems like everyone else does.”

 

Poe had thought for a moment. “Nope,” he’d concluded, bright as ever.

 

“Oh.”

 

“Well, anyways, I was thinking we could …”

 

*    *    *

 

Ben was desperate.

 

Things had slid back to... not exactly how they’d been before, but certainly not better either. In ninth level, kids mostly left him alone now, which he didn’t mind because anytime anything started, it only ended in an aching reminder of how things were. Well, okay, that was a lie. He wished he had more friends, but it was better than being bullied or hated. (Though secretly, late at night, he thought to himself that the latter might have an appeal.)

 

Home wasn’t any better. Their house was always empty, cold, as his mother or father were away for work. Or it was painfully crowded, filled to burst with the screams and contentions of his parents. Fourteen, it seemed, was the age where they no longer held qualms about exposing him to their chaos.

 

The only good time to be home was when Uncle Luke visited, for Luke represented his eventual escape. This was about once a month, or twice, if he was lucky.

 

It was after a hard day of training that Luke finally gave his hopes corporeal form. They sat, some hundreds of yards from the house, resting as the sun set.

 

“Ben,” Luke said to him, “I know I’ve told you this before -- probably more than what’s good for you -- but how far you’ve come already... it really is impressive.”

 

Ben looked up at him from the drink he’d been sipping, doing his best to halt the smile spreading its way across his face but failing miserably. Hearing that from his Uncle Luke still had such glamor.

 

“Really?” Ben replied.

 

His uncle nodded. “Oh, definitely. I don’t really have much to compare you to, but I can’t imagine your progress was ordinary for force users.” He rested a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “There’s something I need to tell you. Your mother doesn’t know yet though, so you have to promise not to tell her.”

 

Ben nodded feverishly; yes, of course he could do that, definitely.

 

His uncle laughed softly, “Right, good.” He took his hand off Ben’s shoulder. “Well, you’re getting good enough that I don’t think it makes sense to leave you on your own anymore. I think it’s only right that sometime soon you come to live with me, to train full time.”

 

Ben stared at Luke, mouth gaping. Was he serious? He hadn’t… he…

 

“R-really?” He stammered. “I... you -”

 

Luke smiled and hugged him; Ben found he didn’t mind the contact.

 

“I  _ knew  _ you’d want to,” Luke said. He pulled away. “But, ah, I’m just really happy to hear that you’d want to.”

 

“Of course I would!” Ben exclaimed. “I -- I -- this is what I’ve wanted for -- for years!”

 

“Oh, that’s excellent!” Luke said.

 

They stayed smiling at each other for a moment too long.

 

“When is, um, soon, Uncle Luke?” Ben asked.

 

Luke’s smile faded; so did Ben’s.

 

“I need to ask your mom first, of course. But --” he searched the ground for a moment, met Ben’s eyes again and forced a smile back onto his face -- “I’m sure if we -- I -- explain everything to her, she’ll see how important this is.”

 

“Right,” Ben said.

 

“Ben, please,” Luke attempted, “I’m sure she’ll be reasonable about this.”

 

“Mhm.”

 

Ben didn’t need the Force to know his mother’s opposition would be the most absolutely stalwart in the history of oppositions. After all, wasn’t that what she was good at? She was trained in negotiations, too.

 

“I could help train him,” she told Luke, as she helped him cook dinner that night. “I’m trained in the Force too, you know.”

 

Ben wanted to vomit; she’d often offered to help him with this in the past, and it always felt like a perversion of form.

 

“Yeah, maybe that would work if you were ever actually  _ home _ ,” Ben snapped.

 

“What was that?” His mother whirled around, knife in hand.

 

“I need someone to be there all the time,” Ben said, “to actually train with me on a consistent basis.”

 

“ _ Ben _ ,” Luke chided, soft.

 

His mother visibly forced down her anger, turned and resumed cutting vegetables.

 

“Whatever,” he mumbled.

 

“Leia,” Luke said, “I know you have things to offer Ben. But you have to understand that there’s certain things you can’t teach him. At this point, he might even surpass what I could offer. My point being, we both know how dangerous the untamed Force is. I really believe that someone with his affinity needs focused, constant training.”

 

“And  _ my point _ ,” his mother responded, practically slaughtering the vegetables now, “is that Ben is too young! I know how damaging it is not to have a normal childhood. You don’t. Believe me when I say that the best thing we can do for him is to give him that. Even his  _ father _ \--” she gestured with the knife as Han entered the kitchen -- “could tell you  _ that _ .”

 

“What could I tell who?” Ben’s father asked, staring at the still-proffered knife tip. He glared at his father.

 

“Luke thinks Ben is ready to go off with him and train,  _ full time _ . I think he’s too young. I mean, honestly, think about what it would’ve meant to you if --”

 

“Have you ever considered,” Ben interjected, scathing, “that my childhood already  _ hasn’t  _ been normal? Kids already think I’m a freak for the Force stuff, and what you’ve all done is great and all, but being related to you people doesn’t exactly make me normal either! You’re scared,  _ whatever _ , but maybe you’re just scared to admit that neither of you actually can do this!”

 

“ _ Benjamin. Organa. Solo _ .”

 

Ben’s greatest skill wasn’t force empathy, but he didn’t need it to feel his mother’s anger. It radiated off of his father, too, though more mangled.  _ Pained _ . Well, good. They deserved it. Didn’t they?

 

“I’m your mother. And I’m telling you you’re not going. End of story,” Leia said, her tone immutable as a duracrete wall.

 

“ _ Whatever!”  _ Ben shouted. “ _ What-kriffing-ever!” _

 

He jumped down from his stool, and slammed the chair back in. It skittered and fell, clattering in the silent kitchen. He stormed out, aiming for his room.

 

“Ben --” his father began, stern.

 

Ben faced him. “ _ No!”  _ he screeched, and the kitchen lights shattered above them. Everyone froze, looking to one another for how to handle this. How to handle him. Ben didn’t, he hadn’t --

 

Tears welling in his eyes, he turned back around and ran off into his room. As soon as the door closed behind him, he broke down into ugly sobs, though he didn’t know why.

 

*    *    *

 

Things returned to normal, he supposed. Luke explained to him the following day how he’d really hurt his parent’s feelings, and should strongly consider apologizing. Ben pretended to be sorry, to Uncle Luke, to his parents. He supposed part of him actually did feel badly, but it felt uncomfortable and so he didn’t acknowledge it. In the part of his mind he’d cut away, untouchable by the Force, he thought that maybe now they might understand how he felt.

 

He continued training with Luke until Luke left, a few days later, returning to whatever planet he was staying on at the moment. Then things really went back to normal. Ben went back to school the day after; his parents to their jobs. He couldn’t recall ever having been as angry as he was the next few weeks. The afternoons he came home to find it would only be him for the night -- or most of it -- the same feelings of smallness and pain crowded him. If he arrived home from school and someone  _ was  _ there, or multiple someones, and it was all night... it was a suffocating, infuriating reminder of his situation.

 

Ben was desperate.

 

A week after Luke left, he got into his first fight at school. It began as the bickering and insults everyone threw around. He didn’t enjoy it -- it was too similar to what he’d endured in years prior -- but at least now defending himself was condoned.

 

Ben’s feelings weren’t something he could handle or control. They weren’t a submissible part of him as the adults in his life wished they were. He was always too loud, too dramatic. He overreacted to what didn’t matter, underreacted to what did. He’d always felt ashamed of that. He could justify himself one moment, but as soon as he cooled off... 

 

Well, he found there was no shame in teaching Wespete Crotri not to mess with him anymore. Not when he’d called Ben a freak for the fifth time that day, not when he’d tripped Ben in the hall. The fight hadn’t even lasted that long. (That was what he was sure to emphasize to his parents.) Some taunting, a hit with his fist, a hit with the  _ Force _ , Wespete was down and an instructor had pulled Ben off before he could do anything else. His parents grounded him for a month and his instructor told him they couldn’t be around each other anymore.

 

No big deal.

 

Snoke even confirmed this, a few nights later in his dreams. 

 

“I’m pleased to see you have been acting on your feelings,” he told Ben as they walked through a mind-forest. Another task Snoke had set him to. “Perhaps next time, instead of waiting to be pushed, you could be the catalyst.”

 

“What do you --”

 

“You already understand,” Snoke cut him off, an honored tradition for them at this point. “Reflect upon it and you will see.”

 

*    *    *

 

Wespete wasn’t a universal bully, but he certainly wasn’t very well-liked. Opinions on their fight split the class - some were of the opinion that it was cause for concern, some figured Ben was the next Luke Skywalker. It was among the latter that he found some reprieve. At least until his flashiness had resided in their eyes, they still wanted to be friends with him.

 

Now, even when Poe was off-planet, he didn’t have to spend such long, lonely hours at home. And at least that was something. He found he didn’t necessarily like all of the kids he ended up spending time with, but it was better than nothing. Maybe. He found he would say yes to hanging out with them more because he felt like it was what he  _ should  _ do, like there was some balance to it, rather than because it was what he actually  _ wanted  _ to do. He wondered how anyone was social when no one really liked anyone else.

 

His parents were happy. Not that that was the point, of course, but he couldn’t deny that it made it easier to live with them. They’d ask him incessantly about this, about school, about things that didn’t matter.

 

“So who’s house did you say you were at last night?” his mom (or dad, it didn’t matter) would ask him, while making dinner, while they both worked on this assignment or that.

 

“Alcor’s,” he’d say, or Gehna’s, or Laton’s. It was all about the same.

 

“Oh?” (Here was where they’d feign interest.) “And how is she doing?”

 

“He, and fine I guess,” Ben would say, trying to look particularly absorbed in his homework.

 

“What did you two do together?”

 

“Same as always.”

 

“Which would be…?”

 

This was when Ben would finally look up at them and give them a real good, exasperated look.

 

“Sorry, sorry,” they’d say, too accommodatingly apologetic, hands raised too dramatically in pliance. He wished they’d just go back to fighting and ignoring him now.

 

When Ben finished and tried to leave, then he’d really done it. They’d put a hand on his shoulder, or would stop him with a hug, but it was always light, quick, like they didn’t know him.

 

“I love you,” they’d tell him, oppressively soft.

 

“I know,” he’d mumble, and squirm away.

 

He knew it hurt their feelings, but his own discomfort was too much.

 

And so help him if they ever tried to talk to him about something that actually  _ mattered _ . His dad skirted around the subject until  _ Ben  _ was forced to name it; his mom was immediately harsh and direct, then attempted to take it back and have some sort of  _ pleasant  _ conversation.

 

So they weren’t fighting now, like they were too worried about the outcome if they did. No, he knew they were. He caught them talking about it once.

 

He had to pass by their door to get to the referesher, and they’d forgotten to close it all the way that night.

 

“-- as much as you, but I don’t need to to know that it’s not what he needs.”

 

His father’s voice floated to Ben, half on his way to pee.

 

“And that’s exactly why you’re wrong.” His mother now, of course. “You don’t know what it’s like to feel as much as he does. We could arrange something, maybe every --”

 

“So with the training he’s already gotten, he’s able to break a kid’s nose. And you think -- what? We should let Luke train him even more, so he can do something even worse?”

 

“See, that’s  _ exactly _ why you don’t know what you’re talking about. Luke will teach him  _ control _ , Han, which is what he needs. That’s the only reason he’s doing what he... what he does now.”

 

Ben’s heart sped up. Did they know more than they let on? No, that was impossible. He was so careful to make sure no one saw when he experimented. But still... He racked his brain for how they might have seen. Well, once -- wait, their conversation. He cursed himself.

 

“-- all?  _ Leia _ .” His father sounded hurt?

 

“Han, you can’t expect me to --” Her voice broke, and she was silent a moment. “This would fix that,” she continued, sounding more confident than that. “Not that there’s anything to be fixed.”

 

“I never said there was. Can we --”

 

“Oh, you don’t think there is? You think I don’t notice the way you act around him now?”

 

“And you do the same! Can we both  _ please  _ admit we don’t know how to handle this? Leia, please.”

 

They were both silent for so long, Ben figured they must be finished. He was about to move when he heard --

 

“One more time, Han,” Leia said. “We’ll give that, alright?”

 

Their lights turned off, and he slipped away to do his business.

 

*    *    *

 

Ben’s fifteenth birthday rolled around, and any hesitation about asking to go live with Uncle Luke fell away. Any time his parents or uncle would ask what he wanted, it was all he responded with. (To Poe, of course, he quietly mentioned that another book about Darth Vader would be nice.)

 

Proportional to his insistence was their refusal. This would have been bad enough on its own, but what absolutely drove Ben up the damned wall was what his parents offered instead. His father was especially to blame. He attempted to procure what must have been, to his ignorant, idiotic mind, reasonable solutions. With every conversation, Ben was surprised at his own growing contempt.

 

“I mean, the Force is so abstract, couldn’t you just keep doing it yourself? Most of Jedi training is figuring things out for yourself anyways,” he said one Zhellday morning, on a week Ben had it off. It was unseasonably warm, and the large windows in the kitchen caused the room to be unbearably stuffy.

 

Ben didn’t look up from the science homework on his tablet as he responded, “That’s not how it works.” Concentration broken, he began to reread the --

 

“But it’s been working for you so far. To have Luke just come every few weeks. You seem to do well with the training he gives you then.”

 

“When have you ever even  _ seen  _ me use the force, Dad? Besides the one time.”

 

His father was silent a moment. Weird for him, to ever shut up.

 

His mother, who was reading something on her own tablet across the table, sighed, “Ben, what your father probably meant was the way you talk about it sometimes makes it seem like that. And you know he notices when you use it casually. Stop being so unfair.”

 

_ Unfair?  _ Ben’s grip on the tablet tightened.

 

“But that’s simple. He hasn’t seen anything  _ real _ ,” he said, looking at her.

 

“Wait,” Leia said, pausing and looking up at them both. “You mean he doesn’t ever show you what he’s learning? He demonstrates it to me every chance he gets.”

 

They were silent; he heard a pod speed by outside. Ben watched them carefully, intently. Something seeped into Han’s eyes, shone, crept back out.

 

“No,” his father said, only looking at his mother. She seemed to turn to him slowly.

 

“Ben?” his mother said, drawing his name out.

 

“I, well --” His breath quickened. He dropped his tablet on the table, landing with a harsh “clack”. “It wouldn’t  _ mean  _ anything to him,” he tried, frustration clouding his thoughts. “You don’t --”

 

He’d done it because it would only convince his  _ mother  _ that --

 

“Benjamin,” Leia snapped, “You complain that your father doesn’t understand but you’re not willing to teach him?”

 

He stared at his balling fists, chanced a look at his father. He couldn’t tell what was hanging over his face. But it crowded him, a challenge in its melancholy.

 

Well, what the fuck did he care? He didn’t.

 

He didn’t.

 

He pushed his chair out from the table with a painful  _ screech _ , grabbing his tablet and making for the door.

 

“Benjamin!” his father called after him. “We didn’t say --”

 

“I don’t care!” he yelled, slamming the door open and then closed with the Force.

 

Ben began to run, and when he reached the edge of their yard, sprinted in earnest. He crashed through the forest behind their house, sweaty, desperate. It was so  _ hot _ . He could feel his mother’s empathetic pull, trying frantically to convince him to come back. He knew he’d run far enough when it blissfully faded and fell away.

 

He slowed down, breathing heavy. His shirt clung to him and his hair was probably a complete disaster. He felt through it. Yeah, he’d probably picked up half the forest on his way here.

 

And where even was here? Ben didn’t exactly recognize it, but he couldn’t have been too far out. He could still feel his family, if he tried.

 

Well --

 

_ Fuck! _

 

It was her fault!

 

Why couldn’t they --

 

It occurred to Ben that he was still holding his tablet and he hurled it against a tree. It shattered, and that was good, but good wasn’t enough right now. He could feel the tears begin to pool in his eyes.

 

No.  _ No _ !

 

Why did this always -- why  _ was  _ it always --

 

He searched for something, anything. He found it, pulsing, small, furry. It put up no resistance as he imposed himself on it. Crushed, drained, and he collapsed.

 

He hated this. He  _ hated _ this. He hated them.

 

He never wanted to go back there. They didn’t care about him. Not really. Because if they did --

 

His breath caught in his throat as the first sob reverberated through him.

 

_ There is power in this _ , a voice said.  _ Use this. Remember this _ .

 

*    *    *

 

His father came to him later that day.

 

Ben was practicing some meditative techniques Luke had taught him on his last visit. These were the most important, Luke had said, to understanding the Force. If you couldn’t really feel it, then you couldn’t know it or use it properly. Fair enough, Ben had thought.

 

A knock on the door. He was honestly surprised they’d even bother to knock now.

 

It slid open and his father’s face poked through.

 

“Ben, can I talk to you a minute?” his father asked softly, stepping lighter still through the doorway. 

 

Ben eyed his father, getting up from the floor and sitting on the bed.

 

“I know what I did was wrong, Dad. I’m still sorry for it. You don’t need to tell me again,” he said. His ears were still ringing from the way they’d chewed him out when he’d eventually wandered back to the house.

 

Han sat next to him on the bed, closer than Ben would’ve liked.

 

“No, it’s not about that,” Han said. “It sort of is, actually. But not entirely.”

 

Ben sighed, “What is it then?”

 

“Ben... do you know why your mother and I were angry with you, earlier?”

 

“Because I ran off in the middle of the conversation and broke my tablet,” Ben said flatly. Why were they going over this again? Wasn’t admitting he was wrong once enough?

 

“Uh, no, I mean earlier.”

 

Ben had to think about his response to that. “I mean... I... I was rude?” His father’s quickly concealed frustration came as no surprise.

 

Han sighed, “Ben, that wasn’t right either, but that’s not what I mean. You know what I mean.” Ben shrugged. “Look, son... I don’t want to know how  your training is going because I want to bother you. I want to be involved in what you’re doing, just the same as your mother does.”

 

The late afternoon sun was shooting directly into his eyes. Would it be bad form to close the blinds with the Force right now? Ah well, his father was partially blocking it for him anyways.

 

“I know that... I knew, from when Leia first told me she was pregnant with you, that this might be something I’d struggle with. For so much of my life, I didn’t even --” he softly chuckled at himself -- “I didn’t even believe the Force was real. That was before I met your mother or uncle, of course. My point is, this is still all new to me. And I’m never going to fully understand what you can do or what you’re going through.

 

“But Ben --” he put a hand on Ben’s shoulder, and now the sun streamed directly into his eyes when he looked up at his father -- “all I’m asking is that you give me a chance. Your mother and I, we only want what’s best for you. But I can’t do that if I don’t even know what’s going on with you. Okay?”

 

His father looked at him and he was so… expectant, and soft, and…

 

_ Pathetic _ . His father only asked for, what? Love, honesty. But Ben could only feel disgust, a repulsion dwelling deep in his gut. He didn’t know where this came from. He didn’t know if that was bad or not.

 

“Okay,” he replied, looking away.

 

He was pulled into a hug, which he blindly reciprocated.

 

“I love you,” his father said, muffled in Ben’s hair.

 

“I know,” Ben said.

 

His father eventually separated from him, and Ben was left to wonder how the man had become so delusional.

 

Ben was not like him and had never been. And he now knew he never would be.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben finally does something about his predicament and learns how to help himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is two days late! Things got busy and I just didn't get a chance to post until now. Anyway, as always thank you for reading.

**“ _I can do this_ , I thought. Then: _And even if I can’t, I have to_.”**

**-Anonymous**

 

“Where are you from?” Ben asked, picking at dream grass.

 

Snoke stared at him. Some things never changed, Ben mused.

 

“Would it make any difference if you knew?” Snoke asked. “Would it change anything about our arrangement?”

 

“Arrangement?” Ben scoffed. He saw Snoke’s face. “Um. I guess not. But you know so much about me. Don’t you think it’s, I don’t know, fair?”

 

Snoke’s eyes were positively shiny, even in the twilight of Ben’s dreamscape.

 

At length, he answered, “You wouldn’t know the planet even if I told you. This is not what we should be discussing.”

 

“What is, then?”

 

Snoke began to walk, and Ben stood up and followed. Ben wasn’t sure how he did it, but they were soon standing somewhere deep in the forest, darker than Ben had ever had the time to explore. It was silent, static. No birds called, no wind blew. Nothing like the murky peace Ben had always assumed it would be.

 

“You’ve been meditating,” Snoke stated.

 

“Uh... uh, yeah,” Ben said. “How did you --”

 

“Allowing me into your mind gives me access to more than your dreams. I told you this many years ago, if you recall.”

 

Ben felt that he trusted Snoke, but this felt like something of a violation. He immediately thought of his mother, and her nonconsensual empathy bonds with him.

 

“Is there any way to keep you out? To keep anyone out? I mean, I don’t  _ mind _ , it’s just --”

 

“Of course there is. And in time I will teach it to you.” Ben nodded; alright. “However, you’ve been meditating.”

 

“Uh... yeah. Right. Uncle Luke said it was the best way to learn the Force. Like, I can already do things pretty well, but knowing how to really get in touch with it will make everything a lot easier and uh… cooperate, I think, he said? No. Wait… Um.”

 

“Your uncle is correct,” Snoke said. “Meditation will allow you to begin to truly feel the Force, in its --”

 

“Cohesive!” Ben exclaimed. “That’s what he -” He saw Snoke’s face for the second time. “Uh, sorry.”

 

Snoke grimaced -- if that was different from his usual expression -- and continued, “-purest form. Have you discerned which side you feel more strongly yet?”

 

Ben thought for a moment.

 

“I... I’m not sure. I don’t know that I even know what the sides feel like, even when I’m just using the Force normally. Should I know that?”

 

Luke had taught him the difference in the sides, and that it would be normal to feel the dark side, at least a little. But he’d explained it as if Ben should just  _ know  _ what was what.

 

“For most, it is too early. I had hoped that perhaps, given your considerably deeper connection to the Force, you might have already felt this distinction.”

 

“Oh, um. Sorry.”

 

Snoke held up his hand.

 

“Not to worry. I simply task you with feeling the different sides while you meditate in the future. It’s likely you’ve been unconsciously feeling them without knowing. Perhaps some directed attention will solve this.”

 

“Right,” Ben said. “I can do that.”

 

“Good,” Snoke said.

 

They were silent. Wait, crap, Snoke was probably going to take this as a sign to leave. He had to -- 

 

“Um, can I ask you something, Snoke?” he tried, the name feeling awkward in his mouth.

 

“Yes, Ben?”

 

Ben shifted his dream-feet. Boy, was Snoke ever the charmer. But he needed to ask this.

 

He continued, “You probably already know that I’ve been trying to convince my parents that going to train full time with Uncle Luke is what’s best for me. But just talking to them doesn’t work, and they won’t be worn down I don’t think. I mean I uh, I think I’ve really exhausted that one… But, uh, anyways, how would you suggest I really show them I do need it? I just think they don’t really…  _ see  _ it, y’know?”

 

Snoke eyed him. Ben fidgeted with his dream-hands.

 

“I agree. This is something you need. Your parents are fools for not seeing this. They do not see your power or potential, not as I or your uncle do. You must show them this.”

 

“But how do I --”

 

“You will know when it is time,” Snoke concluded, dream beginning to fade. “Remember this: your true power comes from that which they would tell you not to feel.”

 

Ben sighed, rolling his eyes.  _ How kriffing helpful _ .

 

*    *    *

 

Snoke was absolutely right, actually, Ben realized as he walked home from school one day. And --  _ duh _ . Of  _ course  _ his power came from his “bad” emotions. All the stuff his parents didn’t like: his anger, his... his... Well, mostly his anger. But that was a lot of what he felt!

 

_ Not...  _ all _ , though _ , he reasoned.  _ That would be too much _ . He pushed the thought away.

 

“Ben are you... okay?” Poe asked.

 

Ben’s head snapped towards him. He could feel himself blush; he’d forgotten Poe was there.

 

“Uh, I, yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

 

Poe looked at him curiously.

 

“You were just like, suddenly shaking your head at something.”

 

“What? Oh! No, I -- I was just talking to myself, I, I guess. Sorry,” Ben said.

 

Poe snorted, “Don’t be.”

 

“Okay, sor -- I mean. Sor -- I! Shit!”

 

Poe was cackling, “Ben, it’s fine, oh my -- It’s fine, really,” he sighed.

 

Ben laughed a little too, and it felt good. He still felt a blush, though. (Or maybe the first one hadn’t left?)

 

“So,” Poe addressed, “what do you want to do tonight?”

 

“Besides, like, going out, you mean, right?” Ben asked.

 

“Well, duh, of course,” Poe said.

 

“Hm, um, I dunno,” Ben said. “I think my parents got some holo-vids, if that sounds interesting. Some for us, but also some, uh --” he showed Poe a smirk -- “I heard them talking about some adult ones, too.”

 

Poe grinned wide. “Man, how are you  _ always  _ overhearing this stuff? I feel like every time I see you, you’re like, my parents said this and that craaaazy thing,” he imitated. “Stuff that I just feel like my dad or aunts would  _ never  _ even say if they knew I was around.”

 

Ben shielded his eyes from the setting sun. He shrugged.

 

“One, my parents don’t care that much,” he explained, counting with his fingers. “Two, they don’t think I can, but like…” He waved his hand around, pantomiming some force-derived motion or other. “You know.”

 

“Wait, you can do that with the Force? Since when?”

 

They started into Ben’s neighborhood as he said, “I didn’t tell you? Well I mean yeah, of course you can. And I don’t know, maybe since… two years ago? Maybe more? I don’t uh, keep track of what I learn to do and when. I’m sure my uncle does though. Or you know, maybe not actually.”

 

He thought on it for a moment. “Kind of though, I wish I had. It’s all so vague and like, cerebral, you know? All this stuff. And Uncle Luke says I’m getting better or you’ll be like, uh, impressed by things, even though that’s different, and sometimes my parents say the same things, but um, I don’t know. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like much. Or it’s like… kind of like, I shouldn’t even think of it that way? Like it’s wrong or something to look at myself and think ‘hey, you’re really good at this’.”

 

He was silent. Poe had been nodding along, was obviously waiting for him to continue, because Poe knew him and knew he had more to say. Which, well, he hadn’t even realized he did, but he did.

 

So he continued, “But at the same time, I mean, I’m confident I guess. Like, when someone is all impressed, I’m just like, I dunno, like yeah, of course you are. Which, I know, kind of an asshole move or uh, thing to think.”

 

Ben stared at his feet. Poe put a hand on Ben’s shoulder. It was probably clammy; he couldn't actually feel it but Poe’s hands tended to be. Oh, wait, Poe was telling him something.

 

“--real though, the stuff that you can do, I mean, I know I’m not a force user or whatever, but it’s crazy to me. It’s impressive. And your uncle knows what -- he would know, you know?”

 

“Yeah,” Ben sighed. There was a beat. “Yeah, no, you’re right.” He looked at Poe. “Thank you.”

 

“Of course, buddy.”

 

Poe had taken to the appellation lately, because his father said it, and honestly Ben was just surprised it hadn’t happened earlier. He supposed he didn’t mind it; it was better than the things his parents called him. Actually, thinking of that, he downright liked what Poe would call him. Or what Kes did, that was good too. Or Uncle Chewie? Uncle Luke... anyone that wasn’t his --

 

Shit, they were here.

 

“Moooom?” he called, peaking his body through the doorway. “Daad?”

 

There was no response. They slipped off their shoes and went to the kitchen.

 

“Guess they’re not home,” Ben observed. Poe shrugged.

 

There was a note on the counter. Ben read, “ _ Went to the capital for dinner. Be back later tonight. There’s food in the fridge and you know the rules. Love, Mom and Dad _ .”

 

“Okay,” Poe said. “Wanna go now?”

 

“Of course,” Ben said, tossing the note.

 

They nabbed their packs and they were off.

 

It was already near twilight, but this was Ben’s favorite time of day and he didn’t care. They ran, cutting across an adjacent yard and breaking into the woods. They flew; the forest floor cracked underneath him, but he was weightless, and this was everything.

 

“Where are we going?” Poe panted.

 

“Um!”Ben started. Breathing was a challenge; he slowed down. “Um,” he inhaled, “I guess, uh, I don’t know… nearest clearing?”

 

“Works for me,” Poe said. He stepped over a log. “What do you want to look for this time?”

 

“Well, we didn’t really - ow.” Ben had walked into a branch. He snapped it off with the Force, direct from the trunk.

 

Poe stared. “You okay?”

 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” They kept walking. “We didn’t finish the last time though. With the nests?”

 

“Oh yeah, right! Yeah, we can do that.”

 

“Yeah,” Ben forced a laugh.

 

They tromped further through the thick undergrowth for a few minutes before Poe began, “Hey buddy?”

 

Ben looked back at him. “Yeah?”

 

“So do you ever think about going off-planet still?”

 

Of course he did. Didn’t Poe know that? For all Poe just assumed about him -- correctly assumed about him -- Poe didn’t already just know there wasn’t a day that went by where Ben  _ wasn’t  _ thinking about leaving Chan-kriffing-drila?

 

“Well, yeah,” Ben snorted. “Duh. Why?”

 

Poe probably shrugged. “Just wondering. We used to talk about it a lot, I realized we… what is it?”

 

Ben had stopped, held his arm in front of Poe. He put a finger up to his lips.

 

“ _ What? _ ” Poe whispered, staring at him.

 

Ben shook the finger, eyes wide. Poe sighed.

 

_ Well fuck you too _ , Ben thought. Wait, where had that -- wait, no, he was listening. Right.

 

They couldn’t have been very far -- Ben wasn’t using that much energy to scout -- but given that Poe hadn’t heard them… Either they were far, or Ben had been using more of the Force than he’d thought, or, or…  _ Shit _ .

 

He rolled his eyes. Poe grimaced at him. He shook his head.  _ Come on _ , he motioned, and they crept forward, pushing through scraggly dead matter. Rather, Ben crept. And glared at Poe until he caught on.

 

Okay, so actually, Poe was just oblivious, because they came up on the group pretty quickly.  _ Oh _ , Poe mouthed.  _ Yeah _ , Ben mouthed back, rolling his eyes again. Duh.

 

Ben and Poe crouched on a small ridge, which bordered about half of the clearing below. There were five of them: three kids he recognized from his level (including - ugh - Wespete and Adrdan; go figure), one he thought might be the older sister of one of the other kids, and… was that a Zabrak kid? He looked at Poe, who might have suggested something that matched his guess.

 

They were just talking, it looked like. One of the girls from Ben’s class, Amitris, was breaking sticks or something. Not really cause for drama. But it was fun.

 

Poe seemed to be asking “ _ What now? _ ” Ben frowned at Poe, gesturing behind him. They could go back? Poe appeared to think about this for a moment before shaking his head. Poe stood up and -- wait, he was  _ what _ ?

 

No, yeah, Poe had stood up, disentangled himself, and was just  _ walking  _ down, to go and have a good kriffing time, apparently. Cursing to himself, Ben ran after him.

 

The kids were staring, watching this weirdo come out of the woods towards them. (And for once, the weirdo wasn’t Ben.)

 

“Hi!” Poe called, waving.

 

“Uh, hi?” Amitris tried.

 

“Hi, um, hi, sorry!” Poe said, coming to a stop. “Hi, I was just --” Ben was next to him now - “ _ we  _ were just passing by, you know, and noticed you guys.” He was bouncing on his feet, and Ben was sorta-kinda trying to hide behind him.

 

Wespete blinked. “Wait, wait a minute.  _ Ben _ ? What’re you doing here?”

 

That would do it.

 

He stepped to the side and said, “Well, y’know, looking for you, obviously. I don’t have anything else worthwhile to be doing. Obviously.”

 

“Obviously...” Wespete said.

 

A couple of them laughed, at least.

 

“Wait, you know each other?” Poe asked.

 

Ben looked at Poe. “Uh, yeah, Poe. That’s Wespete, that’s Adrdan, and that’s Amitris,” he said, pointing. “I don’t know the other two.”

 

“Mel,” Amitris supplied. “She’s my sister.” Mel waved, Poe waved back and Ben gave her an obligatory half-smile. “But Ben - you live near here?” Ben rolled his eyes. How many times did that make now? Whatever.

 

“Amitris,” he said, “I’ve lived one neighborhood away from you our entire lives.”

 

“Okay, well, it’s not like we ever hung out,” she huffed.

 

“Ohhh… kay,” he said, glancing around. He fingered through his hair and pulled out a twig. Huh, he kind of needed a haircut.

 

“Hey,” Poe said. He stepped forward. “It’s no big deal, just a misunderstanding. It doesn’t matter.”

 

“ _ We get it _ ,” Ben muttered. Poe glanced at him; Ben felt himself blush.  _ Sorry _ .

 

Poe continued, “But to answer your question, about what we’re doing here, we’re just, I don’t know, exploring I guess. What about you guys?” Ben exhaled. At least Poe wasn’t an obvious liar. “Oh and I’m Poe. By the way.”

 

“Oh, I thought so,” Wespete said, shockingly pleasant. “Ben’s um. Mentioned you.”

 

“Surprised to see you’re actually real though,” Adrdan commented, eliciting some giggles.

 

Ben rolled his eyes. “You’ve  _ met _ Poe before, turds. Remember, like, six years ago when I almost beat the shit out of you and broke your hand? And some random kid stepped in to stop it or whatever? That was Poe.” His eyes widened. “Oh my -- that was six years ago…” He turned and stared at Poe in bewilderment and Poe stared back.

 

“That was Poe? Is Poe?” Adrdan said.

 

“Yes, how many times do I -- no, Adrdan, no, I’ve been lying to you,” Ben said. “Whatever, look, we’ll just leave you guys --”

 

Poe grabbed onto his shirtsleeve. “Wait, Ben, no --”

 

“Yeah,” Amitris yelled, “you don’t have to go!” They all stared at her; she blushed. “I mean, it might be… fun, you know…”

 

Wespete shrugged. “It’s not like we can be out that much later anyway.”

 

Ben sighed, “Whatever.”

 

As they climbed out of the pit-clearing, Ben grabbed Poe’s hand. Poe turned in surprise and smiled.

 

“Aw, buddy.”

 

Holding Poe’s hand was nice, but that wasn’t the point. He smiled back and projected his thoughts:

 

_ They were only surprised because they don’t care anymore. About the bullying. They don’t think it matters so they don’t see why I would -- or they didn’t think I would bring that up. As if we’re friends now or something _ .

 

Poe furrowed his eyebrows, concentrating. He replied,  _ Um, uh, sor -- bad of --  _ and a picture of boys flashed through Poe’s mind --  _ six is a long time we’ve been friends long time _ .

 

Ben snorted, “Yeah.” Poe looked cowed. Mental communication was still new.

 

_ Yeah. But that’s all I wanted to say _ .

 

And he severed the link. Poe gasped, a little. Crap, he’d been too quick, and none too gentle. He frowned at Poe, shrugged. Poe waved his hand and ran forward, having heard the others engaged in something about piloting.

 

Ben watched them, subconsciously taking note. He didn’t really care that Poe had gone; it didn’t make much of a difference at this point. They laughed at something and Ben tripped over a root. He slowed his fall with the Force and stood back up.

 

A wind ran through the trees, shaking them. It was kind of musical, and in the low light it seemed inviting. He thought, then, that if he never had to go back, maybe that would fix things. He pushed some of his hair behind his ears. He scouted. It was hard since he was walking, but maybe that was a good way to practice it. It was hard when people were talking, but maybe that too. His energies were cast out, trepidatious.  _ No _ , he needed to be more forceful. That’s what Snoke and even Luke -- he slammed right into something large, and furry. He faltered and the animal had probably just been given a mild heart attack. He felt it sprint away, terrified.

 

But what about the other kids? People were easier to wrap around, he’d found. Well, harder and easier. Harder because they -- he ducked under a branch -- had slippery consciousness, and it was always fluxing and pulsing, dynamic in ways that were still a mystery to him. But easier because people were stupid, out of touch beings, and usually didn’t realize it when you were right up next to them. Unless he concentrated deeply, he still needed to touch them to get inside. But anyone would be surprised at how much you could glean just by standing in the entranceway - people tended to be so open, to project anything.

 

He slid along them, from Mel to Adrdan to Wespete (who shuddered) to Amitris to -- he stopped, backtracked. Wow. There was a warmth. And it felt like -- or was shaped like -- or tasted like -- (okay, Ben didn’t know how to describe things like this) -- like him. Did Amitris -- he snorted to himself. Did Amitris kind of like him? A little, anyway, and right now, anyway. He had to try not to laugh.

 

He didn’t need to go onto Poe. When Poe was around, and he assumed this was because he so often used Poe to experiment, so there was a link there, and he could just sort of sense him if he payed attention. He didn’t know how he felt about that, but he also didn’t know -- Whatever. He glared at Poe’s stupid back, rolling his eyes as Poe burst into laughter at some stupid joke.

 

“Uh, hi.”

 

Ben jumped ten feet out of his skin, and the sheepish grin of the Zabrak kid was there.

 

“Oh uh, hi. Hi.”

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to --” His -- her? Their voice was garbled and deep, Ben assumed from whatever the Zabrak native language was.

 

“No, you’re uh. You’re fine. Oh wow, I,” Ben laughed at himself. “You’re fine. I was just... I don’t know. But you’re fine.”

 

The kid giggled, and it was almost cute. They scratched at the base of one of their horns, if it could be called that yet. “I’m Abran, by the way,” they said. They held out their hand, and Ben took it. It was like seeing in color for the first time -- whatever block Abran had had, just through their unfamiliarity, was gone. She -- and it was a she -- was a real being now, fully realized.

 

“Oh, right, sorry for not -- I’m Ben.”

 

“Yeah, I remember,” she laughed. “So you live around here?”

 

“Yeah,” Ben said, looking up. “Yeah about... ten minutes that way?” He pointed. “Which, um, we should actually probably go soon. My uncle will kill me if we’re not back by dark,” he lied.

 

Her face lit up. “Luke?” she asked. “That uncle?”

 

Ben stared at her. “Uh... no. Chewie… Did  _ they  _ tell you about that or something?”

 

“Oh,” Abran said. If Zabraks could blush… “Sorry!”

 

“It’s fine.”

 

The others had stopped, for a break or something. Ben and Abran came up behind them. Ben tapped Poe’s shoulder.

 

“Hey,” Poe said, smiling.

 

“Hey,” Ben said, flat. “We should go soon.”

 

Poe frowned.  _ Good _ . “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He looked around. “Hey guys? Yeah, we’re gonna head back now. Thanks for letting us join though.”

 

“Aw, already? That’s too bad,” Adrdan said.

 

“Yeah,” Wespete agreed. “You could come back tomorrow though. We’ll be here.”

 

“In the clearing?” Poe asked. “I’m not sure --”

 

“No, we’ll just, uh, we know where Ben lives. Tomorrow we don’t have school even so.”

 

Ben sighed and grabbed Poe’s hand.  _ Let’s go _ .

 

“ _ Okay _ ,” Poe said, for some reason annoyed at him. He looked at the others, who were looking at him strangely. “I mean, okay! Sounds good.”

 

“Bye,” Ben said, leading Poe away.

 

“Bye!” Poe called, waving and stumbling. “See you tomorrow!” This was greeted with a chorus of farewells, and one “wait up!” Abran was running after them, for some reason.

 

“Uh.”

 

“Oh, sorry, just uh, my house is, er, in the same neighborhood. Or where I’m staying, you know.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Ben didn’t let go of Poe’s hand, but it wasn’t like he had anything to say. He wanted to keep Poe on track, he supposed. Poe was, he could feel Poe was confused, maybe? Annoyed, still. What the kriff. Maybe he didn’t want to hold Poe’s hand after all; he let go.

 

They had passed by the clearing by the time someone finally broke the silence.

 

“So,” Abran tried, “did you actually break Wespete’s hand?”

 

Ben looked at her. “What? Oh, uh, yeah.”

 

“How’d that happen? He said it was a fight, so was it?”

 

Ben thought. He hadn’t thought about this in a long time, he realized. But the anger hadn’t gone anywhere.

 

“Yeah, I --”

 

“Wait, they -- sorry, but -- they told you about that?” Poe asked.

 

Ben squinted at Poe.  _ Oh, right. _

 

“Yeah, they did? And you didn’t mind…?” He swirled his hand around.

 

“Being around them?” Poe finished. Ben sent him a look of gratitude for that one.

 

“Uh, why would I?” Abran asked.

 

“Because…  _ fight  _ implies that it was, I don’t know, mutual?” Poe said.

 

“I guess it was,” Ben said, shrugging. “It would’ve been now anyway. It was like a year ago.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Abran waved her hands. “Wait wait wait.  _ What  _ are you guys talking about?”

 

“Ben used to be bullied by Wespete and Adrdan, because they didn’t like that he was for --” he looked at Ben, who gave him a “ _ What do I care? _ ” look, and continued -- “uh, force sensitive. We think that because, like, because Wespete is, he was jealous or something.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“It was years ago. I don’t care anymore, especially since they stopped,” Ben lied. “What did they tell you though? What actually happened? Or what did they tell you happened, I mean.”

 

They were out of the woods now. The sun was almost home and Ben discarded a stick he’d been picking at.

 

“I don’t know, just that, uh, you guys fought and he punched you and broke his fist on your face.” She laughed, and it was a light, gentle noise. “I wasn’t sure how much I believed that though.”

 

Ben snorted and Poe laughed, “ _ That’s  _ what they told you? Oh my --”

 

“Listen,” Ben said, shaking his head, “They got some hits in, but I broke his hand with the Force. A couple of Adrdan’s ribs got it that way too I think.”

 

Abran was open-mouthed, wide-eyed. “You can  _ do _ that?”

 

“At the time, it was kind of accidental? Uh, I don’t -- well, I was scared and angry, and sometimes with the Force when you get upset it does things you couldn’t normally. Now I could do it no problem though.”

 

She glanced to the side, began to edge away, though probably without realizing it. “Uh, well, I, oh wow. Thanks for telling me, but my house is over there, so… Seeyoutomorrow!”

 

She ran off. They stared after her as they continued.

 

“I didn’t know there were any Zabrak families in your neighborhood,” Poe commented.

 

“One, I guess,” Ben said. He felt his blush from the abrupt confession subside. “But I don’t think she lives there. Well wait, yeah she said that, so yeah no I guess they don’t have kids or something.”

 

“What was her name again?” Poe asked, opening the door as they stepped inside.

 

*    *    *

 

Ben almost (almost) felt badly for how he’d treated Poe, and so there was no outcome other than to find himself up on this boulder, watching the others play some stupid game. His butt hurt, and they were loud, and his shirt was still kind of sticking to his back from the walk up here. He rummaged around in his pack for some water, and thought, with a grin and a flourish of his bottle, that the best revenge would be to deny Poe a drink when he came and asked for one.

 

“Can I?” Abran said.

 

He blinked at her. He’d forgotten she was there, if he was honest.

 

“Sure.”

 

He glared while she drank.  _ Gross _ .

 

Whatever. Whatever, really. Honestly. He might as well, since he had the time, continue meditating. The conditions weren’t ideal, obviously, but maybe that made it better, if he could do it any time.

 

Alright, alright. He shook himself out, closed his eyes. One deep breath in, and out. In, and --

 

“Uh.”

 

His head snapped to Abran. “ _ What _ ?”

 

“Just... your water bottle, Ben,” she said, holding it out.

 

“Oh.” He could feel his cheeks flushing. “Oh, right. Thanks.” He put it back in his bag and tried to get back to business. In, out. And in, and out. And in... 

 

_ I wonder if I meditate deep enough if I could contact Snoke _ .

 

His eyebrows shot up, even with his eyes closed. The thought had never actually occurred to him before. But hm... he scrunched up his brows. Abran was maybe watching him, and he maybe looked deep and interesting right now. Well -- in, out, in out -- what were the facts.

 

_ He only ever contacts you when you’re sleeping but he knows things that happen for more than that. Either he’s going through my mind when I’m sleeping, or… he can just…  _

 

In and  _ out _ . In. And  _ out _ . Why was this so difficult?

 

Okay, okay. But did it matter if? No, no. Because Snoke was going to -- in and out, you have to -- he was helping. He’d never done anything  _ wrong _ , really. And Ben had let him in. But now he wasn’t so sure he wanted to try talking to Snoke.

 

Alright, well, forget it, for now. Just meditate. Cast out. See what you can find. In, and out, and in, and out, and he was deep inside himself, and far outside his body, and he could  _ feel _ ... at least until some asshole threw a rock at him.

 

*    *    *

 

It was one of the weeks with two days off, so the next day Ben found himself, once again, with this band of merry assholes. Once they got to the pit-clearing, they turned left this time. So northwest, instead of southeast. Or something like that; Ben had a compass but he wasn’t sure he was even using it right.

 

“I heard you can learn to use the Force like that,” Adrdan had commented, after watching Ben fool around with it.

 

Ben eyed Adrdan and thought about that. He wiped the sweat off of his forehead. “Who told you that? I’ve never heard --”

 

“Just something I heard.” He scratched his blonde head. “Would you need to know how compasses work first though?”

 

“Mm… I guess? I mean, I don’t know how, like, living things work but I can still mess with them. Or use the Force on them, I mean.”

 

“Hm, well, you should show us some more of what you can do sometime. It’s cool.”

 

“Uh --” Ben said smartly.

 

Adrdan looked to his left, then back to Ben. “Look, I know this is probably pretty weird for you, right now.”

 

Ben crossed his arms, shivering. It was shady and cool this deep in the forest, where trees grew thick and stretched upwards indefinitely, it seemed. It was humid, and Ben was sweating, but he wasn’t sure he would’ve minded so much if he hadn’t already been this annoyed.

 

“A bit,” he said. “But it’s not -- it’s fine.” He attempted a smile but gave up on the idea almost immediately. “But um, why do I need to show you anything? Couldn’t Wespete just…”

 

Adrdan laughed, “What? How good do you think he is? Anything more than moving something small around and he’s, like, useless.” Adrdan appeared to be thinking. “But, I guess, knowing the Force is around is something, right?”

 

“Well, it’s sort of the bare minimum for knowing you’re sensitive, yeah,” Ben said.

 

Adrdan was still laughing, and he heard the group in front of them laugh at something too. Poe was up there, still. Ben didn’t want to think about that. He looked at Adrdan curiously.

 

“Okay, you’re not wrong I don’t think,” Adrdan said. “But can I ask you something? About the Force.”

 

“Sure,” Ben replied.

 

“What is it like to --”

 

“Guys! Guys! Adrdan, Ben!” Amitris was running towards them. Ben sighed.

 

“What is it?” Adrdan asked.

 

“You guys,” Amitris exclaimed. “Come see this.”

 

They followed her, to where the others were crouched around, looking down at something. Ben noticed, consciously, the trees were filled with this buzzing. It felt hot, dead. He thought he knew what they had found.

 

“Hey buddy,” Poe said, taking Ben’s hand. Ben gave the perverse bond a squeeze and pulled away.

 

It was on its back. The thing lay, crumpled limbs held uselessly up, to the side. The animal, this was an animal, they were  _ the  _ animal.

 

“Pretty crazy,” Amitris remarked, crouching down.

 

She looked over her shoulder, up at him. She was saying something else, but Ben didn’t hear it. She was... feeling the animal? Oh kriff, she was actually touching it. They were as large as one of them, furry, brown. The animal’s mouth was a scream, a moan. “Broken bones,” he thought he heard her say. Something about that.

 

He wiped his forehead again. He stared at the thing, intense, trying desperately to evoke some emotion, to pull forth one last reaction. Something. Anything. But it didn’t move, didn’t move him. He swiped at his eye. Forced his blush to go away.

 

“Wonder what could have done this,” Poe said. Ben heard him say. “Something crazy, huh?” he gave a light laugh, ribbed Ben.

 

*    *    *

 

They didn’t meet again with the other kids until two days later. Ben had seen them in school, however, and it was nothing but weird for him. They tried to sit with him at lunch, wanted to work with him during class, asked if they could walk home with him. Ben, well. Ben couldn’t really say no, could he? It was social convention causing him guilt, he knew that, but it didn’t change things.

 

The first night, Poe had asked if they could go out. Ben told Poe he was tired, he had too much work to do, maybe tomorrow. Unable to concentrate on his homework that night, he realized he felt badly. He wouldn’t be able to make excuses like that again, and Poe was still supposed to be here for another week. Ben knew what was going to happen.

 

_ Alright _ , he said to Poe, taking his hand as they all walked home the second day. Poe slung an arm around Ben’s shoulders.

 

_ Thanks buddy _ , he thought back.

 

Ben looked at Poe, surprised. That had been… coherent.

 

They slipped into the woods in an earlier place than Ben ever had, only about a minute’s walk from the school. Ben gave a passing thought to how he was supposed to check in at home before he went out. He gave a larger, angrier thought to how his father would be home. Yeah, forget that, and he hoped he worried his father. Poe squeezed his hand, which he’d apparently been holding.

 

“Are you okay?” Poe asked.

 

Ben shrugged. Poe had been there for their fight the night before. They started up a hill, and Ben let go of Poe to concentrate on navigating it. He still felt weird about Poe witnessing that. He’d told Poe about his fights with his parents, sure, but him actually seeing it was a whole other ani- matter.

 

They reached the crest, and the others started talking about what they wanted to do. Ben tuned them out, irritated that he’d ended up here to begin with. He didn’t care what they wanted to do. It wasn’t what he wanted, so, what did it matter? They wouldn’t shut up, and they were laughing at some stupid joke. He wanted to scream. He shot out a blast of force energy, broke a sizeable branch of a tree a ways of the flat path they were following. There was a deafening crack, a violent scream. The group started, stopped, stared out.

 

“What the fuck --” Wespete began.

 

Poe placed a hand on Ben’s shoulder.  _ Ben _ , he thought. It was… concern, only, but it made Ben feel sick. He shook his head, shook Poe’s hand off.

 

“It was probably nothing,” Ben spat, nearly. “I didn’t feel anything. Let’s keep going.”

 

“Uh,” Amitris started, trance broken. “Uh yeah, sure. C’mon guys.”

 

They walked until the path became overgrown, gnarled and tangled with roots, brush. Someone suggested they try climbing the ridge to their left. Ben eyed it. It didn’t look any more clear cut than the path in front of them. Instead of vegetation, large boulders - many overgrown with moss - stood in their way. Trees grew intermittently, though, and at the top grew two massive, bowing trunks, like an archway.

 

“Well, I don’t know,” Poe commented, hands on his hips as he looked up, “I’m not sure that’s any better.” He turned to Ben. “Ben, what do you think?”

 

He knew what Poe was doing. Fuck him for it working.

 

“The ridge,” Ben said. “I think it’ll be easier. I think…” He breathed, closed his eyes for a moment. “The top feels clearer. Beyond that too."

 

“Alright,” Adrdan shrugged. “Let’s do that then.”

 

Ben was right, of course; for whatever reason, there was a large scar on the other side of the ridge, as if the trees dared not step foot within its boundary. Leaf litter covered the ground, but the weather had been dry lately and so it was manageable.

 

Or, well, he assumed that, until half way down Adrdan tripped over something. Adrdan was last, and Ben was just in front of him, so no one really noticed when Ben caught him with the Force, mid-tumble. He felt repulsed, almost lost his grip, regained it. Straining, Ben lifted up the boy and placed him at the base of the hill with a grunt. He watched as the others rushed to see if he was alright.

 

“Ben!” Poe exclaimed, running back up the hill, “That was incredible!”

 

“Uh, thanks,” Ben replied, feeling himself smile. Poe lead him down to the rest.

 

“Why’d you do that?” Wespete questioned, closer to Ben’s face than he would have liked. “What were you trying to do?”

 

Ben pushed Wespete back. “He tripped! I caught him! Would you --”

 

“Guys, guys!” Poe had pushed them apart.

 

Ben turned on Poe. “What do you think --”

 

“ _ Ben _ ,” Poe cautioned. Ben shut up, crossed his arms and let out a sharp breath.

 

“Whatever.”

 

Wespete rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay,” he snorted. “Let’s just keep moving.”

 

Poe tried to take his hand, but Ben jerked it away.

 

“Ben, come on,” he whispered, too sweet. “We can go, if you want.”

 

“No,” Ben spat, moving past him.

 

The others had already started walking, but Adrdan had hung back. Ben looked at him. What did he want now?

 

“Um, thanks,” he said. Oh.

 

“It’s... no problem,” Ben said. “Really.”

 

“No problem? That was pretty crazy, you were…” He caught Ben’s stare. “Well, thanks,” he finished, and ran off to join the others.

 

Poe was still with him, though. Ben held aside a branch for him, and Poe gave him a look.

 

“What?”

 

Poe just shook his head.

 

“What!”

 

He was chasing after Poe now. He tried to stop Poe, put a hand on his shoulder, but Poe brushed him off. Oh, so Poe was mad at  _ him  _ now? What had he even done? And what gave Poe the  _ right _ , a voice in the back of his mind whispered.

 

Poe joined back with the others, and Ben was left on his own. Whatever,  _ whatever _ . What-the-fuck-ever. Like he cared. He probably hated them all anyway. Except Poe. But… he still didn’t like Poe. For right now. 

 

Why was everyone just so  _ stupid _ , all of the time? They laughed, but they didn’t deserve that right now. He wanted to break something again. But that felt too obvious.

 

Oh well.

 

He shot out farther than he had the last time, closer to houses. It felt like -- a whole tree? He’d needed it; that was all that mattered. He felt silly, maybe, but he pushed it away. They kept walking, and Ben wondered if they were ever planning on stopping at any point. Wasn’t the whole point of this to do… something? Something that wasn’t just walking. And talking. How was that entertaining? How could those idiots -- he slammed into a branch he’d been to preoccupied to see and kicked at the roots, unintentionally tearing it from the ground. Woops. The others hadn’t stopped, or noticed, so he just kept walking.

 

They were coming up on another hill. Or -- they were already on the hill, he corrected, and there was another downwards bit. This one felt more perilous than any previous, but apparently no one thought it was dangerous since they were all just… going. He’d mostly caught up with them at this point, but he was still behind, so as he picked his way down he watched them.

 

He glared at Wespete.  _ It’s his fault _ , he thought.

 

He stopped.  _ It’s… _

 

He reached out his hand.  _...his… _

 

He waved it, smacking the air.  _...fault. _

 

Wespete went smashing down the rest of the hill, a muffled yell escaping his mouth. His limbs, his body, out of his control, being thrown and smacked audibly. Ben stared, hand still out but inactive.

 

It seemed like a month, a year before he hit the bottom, before anyone moved to do anything. Ben couldn’t see clearly from where he stood, but he could still feel Wespete. He was alive, of course, having braced himself with the Force like Ben had expected him to. And  _ oh _ , he was confused, but mostly he was angry, a hot, blistering rage coming up now.

 

Ben continued down the hill. He was breathing heavy now. He was aware of everyone crowding around Wespete.

 

He was halfway down now, and he saw Wespete push them off. Saw his eyes turn upwards. Saw the anger crease his face.

 

“ _ BEN!”  _ came the scream.

 

Three-quarters, and Wespete was on his feet. “ _ BEN! _ ” he screeched again.

 

Poe looked from Wespete to Ben and back again. He looked right into Ben’s eyes, bewildered. He knew. 

 

“Wait --” he tried.

 

But Wespete was rushing up the hill, and Ben was leaping to meet him. Wespete was on him, but Ben was ready. He pushed out his hand, and Wespete went down the remaining few feet of hill again.

 

With an  _ oof _ , he looked up as Ben crowded on top of him. A cry strangled forth, and fist connected with flesh. Again and again, over and over, Ben was screaming but he didn’t know what, Wespete was screaming but it only made Ben angrier. 

 

He needed -- he hated -- he -- A hand, on his back. He force pushed it away, as far as he could.

 

But he was distracted, and Wespete got a hit in, and Ben was on his ass with a grunt.

 

“ _ What the  _ fuck,” Wespete was sobbing. Gasping, Ben got to his feet. “ _ What the fuck _ ,” he repeated, softer this time.

 

He stared at Ben. There was a beat. He swung at Ben, and Ben stumbled back, reeling, clutching at his face.

 

Snarling, he turned back to Wespete, his arm whipping out. Wespete frowned, struggled, jerked, but he was weak and Ben had him. Ben creased his brows, breathed de--

 

“Ben!  _ Ben! Ben! _ ” he became aware of -- Poe? -- screaming. Crying. “Ben! Ben, please, stop!  _ Beeeen! _ ”

 

He was tugging at Ben’s shirtsleeve. The raised arm one. The… Ben looked down at Poe, tears streaming down his face.  _ Oh no, no _ , he --

 

He heard the crash as Wespete fell to his knees. Ben wondered when he’d loosened his grip, when he’d dropped his arm. He glanced at him, and Wespete was shaking, sobbing.  _ Served him _ \--  _ wait, no, no, no _ … 

 

Poe, face twisted in ugly anguish, latched onto Ben. Ben’s face felt wet and he realized he was crying, too.

 

“Ben…” he whimpered. “Oh, Ben…”

 

*    *    *

 

Ben was aware of a hand on his shoulder. He looked up, and there was the warm smile of his Uncle Luke.

 

“It’s time,” Luke told him, tone gentle. He gave Ben’s shoulder a squeeze and sat next to him, on the porch. “Are you ready?”

 

Ben nodded, slowly. “Y-yeah,” he said. “I have to.” And it felt like remembering.

 

“Alright, well, say your goodbyes and meet me on the ship when you’re done, okay?” Luke said, standing up.

 

“Okay.”

 

The sun was setting, the air was cooling. But it was still warm, and Ben knew he wasn’t shivering because of the temperature. He was… excited. Guilty. He didn’t know. He stood, went inside one last time to say goodbye to his parents. He’d been waiting outside, bags already packed up, while his uncle said some last this or that to them.

 

He opened the door. The house was quiet. His parents watched, as he came in. Ben could feel the blush rising on his cheeks. It had only been a day since…

 

He shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he told them.

 

His mother pursed her lips. “We know,” she said.

 

“I wouldn’t go if I --”

 

“It’s okay,” his father said, a tightness in his voice almost completely hidden. “You need this. We all know that now.”

 

His mother eyed his father, then looked back at him. She hugged him, and he hugged back, and he felt when his father joined the embrace.

 

“We love you,” she said.

 

“I know,” Ben replied. They let go.

“Bye kid,” his father said, kissing the top of his head, ruffling his hair.

 

“Bye,” he said.

 

He walked outside. The backyard was quiet, the neighborhood was quiet, the world was quiet. He swiped at a tear and cursed himself.

 

_ If I didn’t need this _ , is what he would have said. He thought it as he got on board. He thought it as he sat next to his uncle and strapped himself in.

 

_ If I didn’t need this I wouldn’t go. But I need this. I need it. I showed them that I  _ \--

 

It occurred to him that this was his first time leaving Chandrila. He stared out the window, enraptured as they were already almost out of the atmosphere. His uncle was saying something, maybe, but the world was so… large. And round. And his planet was… small. He felt small.

 

They were outside now. Outside of all of it. Ben stared at space,  _ real  _ space, and he thought of how the Jedi and the Sith must have felt, years ago, knowing this was their home, in a way.

 

But the stars twinkled so invitingly, beckoning him to something, somewhere, so maybe it could be.

 

Ben was desperate, he knew this, and that was all the explanation he needed.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Contents include: apx 6 ft of teen angst, 3 oz lack of understanding, and a heaping helping of refusing to see the light. Oh and uh, as much failing the future of the galaxy as suits your taste.

**“The dark is generous, and it is patient, and it always wins. It always wins because it is everywhere. It is in the wood that burns on your hearth, and in the kettle on the fire; it is under your chair and under your table and under the sheets on your bed. Walk in the mid-day sun and the dark is with you, attached to the soles of your feet. The brightest light casts the darkest shadow.”**

**-Matthew Stover**

 

_ BANG. BANG. BANG. _

 

Ben groaned, rolling over on his cot. Was it... was it really already time? He sat up, yawning, frowning.

 

“Ben!” his uncle called to him from outside his room. BANG. BANG. He didn’t need to --

 

“Okay!” Ben yelled, “I get it! Just a second!” 

 

He jumped out of bed, noticing, as he stretched, how tight his muscles felt.

 

_ Well no shit _ , he thought _. _ His uncle had seemed hell bent on killing him with the training lately. He blearily surveyed his small, sparse room, trying to remember what it was he had to do. There was his cot, pressed up against the wall. And the chest on the other side, which held more or less everything he owned out here. And... a rug, in the middle. Early morning light invaded from a window on the wall opposite the cot.

 

And the… right, the chest.

 

He rummaged in the chest for some clothes. He wasn’t really sure why he was actually  _ looking _ , as if every pair of leggings and every tunic he owned didn’t pretty much look the same. Choosing what he assumed was currently the cleanest outfit, he pulled them on and, before closing the chest, paused. On the inside of the lid, he’d taped a small painting of Darth Vader Poe had gotten him for his birthday last year. It was a nice gesture, of course -- an excellent one, really -- but a good reminder too. His fingers ghosted over the portrait, almost reverent, breath unexpectedly hitching.

 

_ That was… _

 

Was that really almost a year ago? He closed the chest and frowned. So he was almost… seventeen now? He rubbed his face.

 

_ What the absolute kriff _ .

 

Pulling on his boots, he force-pulled his lightsaber from under his pillow and exited his room.

 

Uncle Luke was waiting for him outside, of course.

 

“Good morning,” he greeted.

 

“Morning,” Ben mumbled.

 

Luke placed breakfast into his hands, and Ben stared at it, his brain taking a minute to register that this was food, and that he should do something about that.

 

“Uh, thanks,” he said.

 

“Of course,” Luke said, motioning for Ben to follow him.

 

Yawning again, Ben ate his breakfast and walked with Luke out of the small home they’d been staying in. Home was maybe too generous a word, though. More of a… wooden shack, complete with what they used as two bedrooms and small living area, good for cooking and, well, everything else. Living. Ben snorted to himself and and Luke gave him an inquisitive look, but Ben shook his head and Luke looked away again.

 

The planet they were currently on -- some remote rock whose name Ben had never bothered to remember in the first place -- was fairly temperate. They were apparently in the transitional season from warm to cold. Coming from Chandrila, it was still bizarre to him when the climate wasn’t just perpetually mild.

 

He recalled his absolute astonishment and joy, two years ago, when his uncle had taken him to his first truly cold season. They’d been on a moon, maybe? But there was snow, finally, and it had been everything -- no, more than everything -- Ben had ever imagined it to be. The cold felt good, and the impossibly long night, and the ethereal glow, which he’d snuck out every night they were there to experience.

 

“-- but I think I told you all that, right, Ben? Ben?”  _ Woops. _

 

“Uh, yeah, no, definitely,” Ben said, “Last night, right?”

 

Luke nodded. They were walking up the mountain their cabin sat on, and Ben ran to catch up with his uncle as he said, “Which means you remember how I told you to act, this time?”

 

Ben rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever, I know,” he said. His uncle gave him a withering look, and Ben corrected, “I mean, yeah, I, I know. I’ll do better this time. Be more respectful, like you said. I promise.”

 

They were heading to a clear spot near the top of the mountain, so they could meet his uncle’s friend Lor San Tekka. Ben had met him before, and he seemed nice enough, but Ben didn’t particularly like him. He was too… proselytizing, if that was the word?

 

Ben tried, “All I was trying to say last time was --”

 

“Enough,” his uncle said, giving him another look. Ben rolled his eyes again.

 

“ _ Yes master _ ,” Ben parodied.

 

_ All I was trying to say last time was that it makes no sense for someone who’s not a force user to care so much about force user business, for fuck’s sake. Like he’s trying to be special or something. _

 

He really didn’t think it was  _ that  _ unreasonable. But the reprimand and punishment Luke had given him suggested otherwise.

 

They reached the landing site -- a flat, barren, rocky step as the trees began to thin out -- just as a ship came into view. It was old, discolored, seemed to have difficulty getting smoothly and firmly on the ground. _ Kind of like its pilot _ , Ben mused, smiling to himself.

 

Sun glinted off the ship and Ben had to put a hand over his eyes to see as Lor stepped out. Pretty much the same as Ben remembered him, he was a slight, graying man. His face was creased but taut, and Ben knew that even though he looked serious he wasn’t overly so. He wore dirty white and red robes, in a gross facsimile of what he probably considered something akin to ancient Jedi fashion. Actually, the robes weren’t too different from the ones his uncle wore. His uncle’s were gray, though, because they kind of always were, even when Ben thought back to his childhood. Ben couldn’t see himself wearing something like that, but they did flow kind of nice, and Ben often found himself watching his uncle walk, wondering how he never tripped. He figured he would fall on his face in about ten seconds flat, especially considering how uncoordinated he was these days, monster growth spurts and all. In fact, he was almost -- 

 

“-- and you remember my padawan, Ben Organa-Solo,” his uncle was saying. Shit, again. (Double shit?) Ben whipped his head up to look at Lor, smiling politely and bowing slightly, like his uncle had instructed him to.

 

“Of course,” Lor said, warmly, “it’s nice to see you again, Ben.”

 

“Likewise,” Ben replied.

 

“Shall we?” Lor said.

 

“Of course,” his uncle replied.

 

*    *    *

 

Ben followed behind them as they made their way back down the mountain, wondering why this was always the position he found himself in. He watched as the adults traipsed through the forest, talking about some shit Ben didn’t care to pay attention to, and still amazed that neither tripped over their robes when it was a conscious effort for him to stay standing. Stuff like this was always kind of boring. Well, he still liked learning about history and theory, like he had as a kid, but now that he could actually do it and was involved in it, it didn’t feel as necessary.

 

It would’ve been nice if one of the other padawans was here, he found himself thinking.

 

_ Huh, weird _ .

 

As if he also had access to Ben’s thoughts, Lor asked his uncle, “I heard you’d taken on other padawans recently. Are they about?”

 

“No,” his uncle answered, “they don’t stay with me as often as Ben does. Besides, I anticipated this being dangerous, and in my opinion they didn’t have enough training.”

 

“One of them asked to,” Ben interjected. It was odd to him -- hunting Jedi artifacts wasn’t the most interesting thing Ben could think of doing, but he wouldn’t have allowed himself to miss it. Then again, almost anything was better than being at home -- either of them, now. He still wasn’t accustomed to the idea.

 

“Mhm, that’s true,” Luke said.

 

“What about your sister?” Lor asked. They emerged from the woods now, and headed for the cabin. “Has she reconsidered your offer?”

 

Luke sighed, “No, not really. Leia thinks she really does belong on the Senate. I’m inclined to agree, but -- Well, at any rate, she’s been extremely helpful in finding new students. She’s asked her allies in the Senate to report any force sensitive children they might know about. Which, ah, some are hesitant about, of course, but hopefully in time they’ll see I’m not abducting their children.” They both laughed, and Ben mirrored them, for politeness’ sake.

 

It looked like it was going to be cold today, which Ben still loved the feeling of. It felt uncomfortable, but he felt more alive, in a way. The forest became increasingly dense as they moved ever downwards, following what seemed an old, worn trail. No one lived this far out. He and his uncle had assumed it was used by some species of animal here. Ben hadn’t sensed animal energy, though, and Luke had found it odd that he could tell the difference between animals and higher beings in the first place.

 

It still bothered Ben, though, that there would be things Luke didn’t understand. Growing up, and then coming with him, he’d just… assumed everything would fall into place. But it felt like, when Ben would tell Luke about how the Force felt to him, or about what he did, or thought about to use it -- Luke just didn’t get it. And it wasn’t so much that --

 

“Ben?” Luke was asking.

 

Ben blinked. “What?”

 

“Lor asked if you’d considered continuing your regular studies.”

 

“Huh?” His eyes jumped between his uncle and Lor. “Oh. Oh, uh, yeah, I guess I’ve thought about that. But um, I’ve missed so much at this point that I… guess I don’t see the point in going back. It wasn’t ever very interesting to me anyways and uh… being a, uh, Jedi or whatever seems… more important now, I guess.”

 

Lor nodded sagely, as if there was some deep significance to Ben’s decision.

 

“His mother certainly wanted him to,” Luke commented, pulling out his canteen and taking a drink. Ben realized his mouth felt dry and did the same. “I think his parents assumed he’d only be gone for, I don’t know, a month at most, and then things would become more periodic.” Luke smiled, and Ben gave him quiet laugh.

 

“But that wasn’t what was best, in your opinion?” Lor asked.

 

Ben felt himself blush as his uncle answered, “No. Ben is… an extremely powerful and talented force user. I don’t believe it would be to his benefit to train him inconsistently. In fact, I sort of think it would have been better if we’d begun on a more regular basis even earlier, but his parents weren’t convinced that was the right course of action until a few years ago.”

 

“I see,” Lor said. He stopped, and Luke and Ben paused too. He smiled apologetically. “Do you mind if we rest for a moment?”

 

“Of course,” Luke said.

 

*    *    *

 

They’d been travelling for another hour before the topic of conversation returned to Ben.

 

“So,” Lor continued, apparently, “Do Han and Leia now feel that this is the correct place for you? Here, with Luke?”

 

_ Don’t talk about them like you know them _ .

 

He saw his uncle glance at him, but Ben only frowned and said, “I’m not sure. They tolerate it, I guess. They still try to get me to visit them all the time.” He thought for a moment, pushing down his sudden anger. “But I think it’s what’s right for me.”

 

Lor gave him a smile, and Ben felt it was patronizing. “Well,” he said, “I suppose that’s what’s most important, hm?”

 

“Given my experience with Ben so far, I’d say so,” Luke said, and Ben felt that at least he was genuine.

 

*    *    *

 

By midday, they arrived at the cave. It didn’t look like much, from the surface; in fact, if you didn’t know it was there, it was entirely passable without the vegetation trimmed out of the way. Even so, it still seemed an unthreatening, weeping gape in the rock to Ben. But he knew what it really was -- the entrance to an elaborate system of caves. A few days previous, when they’d arrived on the planet, Luke and Ben had felt through as much of the cave as they could. And, as Luke and Lor had hypothesized months ago, it did indeed seem that this had once been a place heavily utilized by some manner of light side users. They were hoping for Jedi, of course.

 

Ben crouched next to the hole, feeling the wall that was exposed. A gust of wind sighed out from the cave, and Ben shivered. He glanced over and Luke was next to him. Ben watched as he breathed in and out, deep and serene.

 

“Do you feel it calling?” Luke asked Ben. “The Force is strong here. I think it… wants us to come in.” Sure, the force was strong here, but a pull? If anything, Ben only felt --

 

“Right,” Ben lied, “I think so too.” He stood up. “Should I go first, like we talked about?” Luke nodded.

 

Ben backed himself into the awaiting mouth, his legs swinging over the edge, and his hands gripping before he fell too far. Taking a breath, he dropped, landing with a grunt and a  _ poof  _ of sand around his feet. There was just enough light from the entrance above for him to see for at least a little around him. It was pretty much what he’d always imagined a cave would look like -- high ceiling, black walls, cold. The biggest difference was probably the Force down here. It was as a physical presence; even on other hunts he’d gone on with his uncle and Lor, he’d not felt so swamped by it.

 

Taking a shaky breath, he called up, “Okay! Looks fine!”

 

“Great!” he heard Luke yell back, and in a moment, his uncle had shimmied inside next to him. Though Lor probably wasn’t too old yet to have gotten inside and on the ground on his own, Luke and Ben made sure he was lifted down gently. Brushing off his hands  on his robes, Luke surveyed the room they found themselves in. He whistled lowly. 

 

“I wish you could feel this, Lor,” he said, “this is… this is really something else.”

 

“Well, let’s see if we can’t find something interesting down here,” Lor said. He rummaged in his pack and passed Luke and Ben pairs of goggles. Ben put his on and the shadows transformed into a world of nuanced green tones. Ben found he was excited, for some reason, at the idea of being able to see in the dark, even if the cave’s energy wasn’t mixing well with his own.

 

They started walking, and it occurred to Ben that maybe he should ask about that. But not to Luke.

 

_ Right _ . Like he’d been thinking before, he’d been turning more and more not to Luke with his questions about the force, but to…  _ Huh. Wait…  _ He should’ve been right there, but -- Ben concentrated harder, searching all of the corners of his mind he could think of.  _ Still nothing…?  _ He tried something even more basic, and actually thought out --

 

_ Smack _ ! His head had slammed into the ceiling and he was sent back a few paces, clutching at his face.

 

“Ben?” his uncle’s concerned voice reached out to him. “Are you alright?” His uncle was doubled over, the goggles making him look something like a bearded Rodinian.

 

“Ye - yeah,” Ben said, “just hit my head. Sorry!”

 

His uncle frowned and said, “Alright.” He turned back around and continued.

 

Ben rubbed tenderly at the spot where a bump was already forming. It would go nicely with the cuts, bruises, and general disfigurements spread throughout the rest of his body, he thought as he was sure to duck  _ under  _ the ceiling this time. It was nice to finally not be the smallest kid in the room now, that definitely had its perks for sure, but it was kind of annoying to never have any sense of where his body began or ended anymore.

 

But anyway, he still couldn’t feel Snoke’s presence in his mind. It was weirdly alarming, but only because he’d grown so accustomed to it.  _ And frustrating, too _ . The cave, well, it positively thrummed with light side energy. And yet, Ben felt that his abilities would probably be weaker down here than on the surface, when by all accounts they should have been impossibly magnified. Sure, the energy was all, like, within and without him like his uncle was always trying to get him to notice, but it felt like it was just past his reach. Like the way the heat could sometimes throw up visions, the way the sun in the middle of the warm season could obscure what was tangible.

 

Ben felt hazy, incoherent,  _ unwelcome _ . Darkness was never like this for him, and he didn’t understand why it was different now. He had the idea to touch a hand to his lightsaber -- holstered at his waist -- and it was a beacon of solidity in this homogeneous void.

 

After a time, and when they could again stand up straight, he managed, “Uncle, are you feeling alright?”

 

Luke turned to look at him. He was maybe giving Ben a suspicious look, but with the goggles it was hard to tell.

 

“Of course I am,” he said. “Are you?”

 

“Yeah, I just --”

 

“Luke, over here!” Lor exclaimed. They were in a wide, mawing cavern now. In the very center was a steep drop, but Lor was over by one of the walls, examining it. His uncle ran over to see, but Ben, curious about the hole in the middle of the room, decided to investigate that instead. As close as he could, he peered over the edge. It looked the same as everything else, dark rock and shadows, but it felt…

 

He got down on his knees, leaned over as far as he dared. This was… what was this? He knew the feeling, but couldn’t place it. There was a whelming, a pulsing. That he could name. But there was, something more. Other. He knew this, he knew it with the Force, he knew -- 

 

_ It feels like someone’s down there. _

 

With a start, he scrambled to his feet and backed the kriff up.

 

“Ben, come see this!” his uncle beckoned, and he was more than happy to oblige.

 

*    *    *

 

It had just been some ancient Jedi writing. Or something. Lor had been excited about it. So much so that they’d spent an entire wonderful hour while he decoded as much as he could, and wrote down the rest. Ben had thought he was going to jump directly out of his skin, being in the same room with whatever it was for so long. He decided to ask Luke about it on their way out.

 

“Uncle,” he began, “did it feel weird to you, at all, in that main room? Like we weren’t alone?”

 

For the millionth time that day, Luke was probably looking at him like he was absolutely crazy.

 

“Weird? Ben, are you sure you’re alright? That was one of the most incredible things I’ve ever felt the Force do -- it wasn’t alive but it -- it felt it, right? That’s what felt off to you?”

 

“It… wasn’t?”

 

“Ben,” his uncle laughed, and it reminded him of the way he had when Ben was a child and he’d asked a silly question. “Of course not. It was just dwelling there, for some reason.” He touched Ben’s arm, lightly. “I’m surprised you couldn’t tell the difference. Normally you’re pretty sharp about that stuff.”

 

“I, um --” He could feel the rising blush. He moved his arm away. He mumbled, “I don’t know. Sorry.”

 

“It’s okay, Ben. Please.” He knew how his uncle was looking at him. Ben focused on his feet until Luke decided it wasn’t worth it and left him alone.

 

*    *    *

 

The sun was setting as they emerged, and Ben felt the freshest, cleanest air of his life rush into his lungs. He realized he’d never truly appreciated breathing as a thing he did until now. Ben sensed that his uncle and Lor were mellower now, as if the cave had been one long, hot dip into a bath. So they were slow, lethargic, but Ben skipped forward and scoped out the path.

 

He realized they wouldn’t make it back to the cabin before nightfall, but that was alright. Well, it kind of wasn’t, his stomach reminded him as it protested, loudly. Okay, no, it actually was alright. Out in the open again, Ben felt he could deal with that, or his apparent exhaustion, or anything else.

 

All was quiet, the adults apparently too tired to keep up conversation anymore. That was a welcome change. Back in the cave, it had gotten to the point where he heard either of them breathe and was ready to self destruct. The wind rustled gently through the trees above them, shaking the dying foliage with a hollow rattle. They passed through a break in the treetops, and Ben could see the first star peeking out. Even with gross caves, he thought, there was so much wonder in this universe that had been kept from him.

 

So he was feeling outside, allowing the world outside in, when he felt it charge at them. There was a guttural noise strangled from his throat, and a crashing through the underbrush; and the beast was upon them, and his lightsaber was out -- warm, clean, arcing brilliance -- and then the animal lay, halfway cut in half and convulsing.

 

Ben panted, wide-eyed, saber still poised in both hands in front of him.

 

“Oh -- I -- wow, Ben,” his uncle tried. “How did you  _ know - _ -”

 

“I felt it?” Ben guessed, retracting the saber’s blade and reholstering it. He shrugged. “I don’t know, I was feeling, like you told me to.”

 

“I see,” Luke said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Well, good job, as always.”

 

Ben smiled, a real, genuine grin at the praise. There was a beat.

 

“Well,” Luke said, taking his hand back.

 

They both came to the realization that Lor was still staring at the animal.

 

“Are you alright?” Luke asked. 

 

Lor seemed to come back to himself, noticed Luke and Ben were standing there.

 

“Oh, uh, yes. Yes, of course.” He was the first to continue walking.

 

Ben stared after him, disbelieving indignation clear. “You’re welcome?” he said.

 

“Ben,” Luke said, soft.

 

“Well, what’s his problem? Is he upset that I didn’t let him get mauled?”

 

Luke sighed. “I think he just wasn’t expecting it to be so…” He waved his hand about.

 

“ _ Right _ ,” Ben said, and kept walking. Glaring at Lor, he pushed into his consciousness, forceful and uncaring if Lor knew he was there. He shuddered, so maybe he did, but he definitely wasn’t sensitive, so who really knew.

 

But all Ben got out of it was a screaming red -- the same as his saber -- so he pulled back, more confused than ever.

 

* * *

 

Two nights later, once his uncle had gone to bed, he called Poe. He’d snuck into the forest to do it, setting up the holocam with a hookup to Luke’s small ship, maybe a hundred feet from their cabin. It wasn’t that it was against the rules or anything for him to talk to Poe; rather, Ben just wanted to talk to him where he wouldn’t be overheard.

 

The device  _ whirred  _ to life in his hands, though it was barely audible. Everyone, it seemed, needed to be awake right now -- there were trills and chirps and buzzes enough to make his head spin. So he kept a hand cautiously outstretched in the force, but was careful not to intrude too much. A delicate balance, which he’d never been very skilled at striking.

 

A faint blue glow was cast over Ben’s face as Poe answered his call.

 

“Hi!” Poe greeted, his beautiful grin spreading over his face. He waved, too, even. “Hi Ben!”

 

Ben let out a shaky laugh. “Hi, Poe,” he said, returning the wave. “How are you?” He peered more closely at the holo. “And what time is it there?”

 

“I’m good! Well, better now, honestly. And uh --” Ben’s heart was suddenly racing, and he saw Poe look out the window -- “maybe early afternoon? Yeah, I’d say that. It’s night for you, right? And are you… are you outside, Ben?” Concern and confusion came over Poe’s face.

 

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Ben replied, with a nervous laugh, “I uh, I didn’t want to be, uh, you know. Overheard or whatever.”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Poe said, then sing-songed, “but Ben! Haaaapy birthdaaaay.”

 

Ben felt the profuse, ever present blush, but maybe it was okay this time. He looked at his lap. “Thanks,” he said, “Th - thanks Poe.”

 

“Of course, buddy.” Poe was positively beaming now. Ben found it was hard to look at that and listen to Poe all at once. “Did you and your uncle do anything fun?”

 

“No,” Ben snorted, “Not unless you count him not forcing me to meditate today. Birthday gift I guess.”

 

Poe laughed, “How kind of him. And what about your parents? Did they say anything?”

 

Ben frowned. “My mom and I, we… talked like this earlier. Dad sent me a message.”

 

And now Poe was also frowning. “They didn’t want to see you? I would’ve thought…”

 

Ben sighed, thinking about his last visit, when all three of them had miraculously come together. He hadn’t been receptive, and his parents hadn’t seemed willing to try anyway. Poe and Luke both told him he needed to be more open-minded but --

 

“I don’t know,” Ben confessed, “I know you think I need to try harder. But I’m pretty sure  _ they  _ think I should try harder too, and that’s kind of the problem.”

 

“All I was trying to say, before, you know, was just that they’re really not out to hurt you and they… don’t hate you.” He could hear how Poe was being careful. He loved it; he hated it.

 

“I think I scare them,” Ben said, quiet, staring at his clenched fists.

 

There was a silence. And this was the thought, the idea that Ben would ruminate on in any quiet moment, the one that that occupied all those snatched moments for all of its implications.  _ I know I terrify them _ , Ben wanted to say,  _ And I think I like it _ .

 

“Ben,” Poe tried, voice full of… something. “Oh, Ben, I don’t --”

 

And he had been mistaken.

 

“Um, nevermind,” Ben said. “Thank you for um, talking to me, but I - I’m tired. Sorry. Bye.”

 

“Ben, Ben no! Wait, Ben --”

 

The image flickered off. Ben collapsed onto the tree trunk behind him, startled and small in the dark, the silence. He felt he was choking; a sob escaped his throat and was transmitted out, somewhere outwards. It was always this way.  _ He  _ was always this way. He kicked the holocam, moaned, curled into himself.

 

It was all he could ever seem to think about and it seemed that, the more distance he put between him and his parents, and the past and his home and them, them, and, honestly, his happiness, and all the  _ suffocating _ reminders, the more he only thought of it. He rubbed furiously at his eyes. He couldn’t stop himself now and he couldn’t prevent himself from thinking of the contempt in his mother’s voice hours ago and the disappointment in her eyes that she thought she hid.

 

But --  _ ha  _ \-- what did either of his parents know about lying? They didn’t  _ have  _ to. They hadn’t learned from the very beginning the essential nature of concealment, not the way Ben had. The way Ben had always, always learned, he had realized, that there was no honesty for someone like him. Honesty was death. 

 

And so there it was.

 

He sucked in a shaky breath, he wiped off his eyes.

 

_ Someone like him _ . He snorted. What did that even mean?  _ Idiot _ , he told himself.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Becoming your own person and finding your own path can be scary and painful. Especially when you're kind of an evil person but you don't know it yet.

**“...I am talking about evil.**

**It blooms.**

**It eats.**

**It grins.”**

**-Anne Carson, _Glass, Irony, and God_**

 

Of all the planets Ben had visited, he’d have to say he probably hated Coruscant the most. He’d hated it when he was fifteen, and Luke had taken him to visit the old Jedi Temple, now the old Imperial Palace. And he hated it now, when they were doing pretty much the same thing, except Ben was nineteen and it wasn’t just him and his uncle anymore.

 

It was midday, and the sun was blinding and the city was crowded and overwhelming, and he was sweaty and he thought of all of this and how he hated it as he awkwardly towered over the group of his fellow padawans while they made their way to the Temple. They certainly turned heads as they went; most people this side of the galaxy knew who Luke was on sight, and it was hard not to stand out when you and the other 15 people you were with all wore more or less the same long, flowing,  _ itchy  _ robes. Ben hated them, but his uncle had insisted, and it was long past the time he had given into Ben’s exceptionalism.

 

Still, he couldn’t deny the twinge of pride he got from all of this. The fact that he knew passersby were pretty much mystified by them. And he guessed it was sort of surreal, in a way. And also fitting, in another way. He still thought he probably hated it, though.

 

Abran, the same zabrak kid who he’d known from when he was a kid, shivered next to him and said, “Feels… weird, doesn’t it?”

 

Ben looked down at her. “What do you mean?”

 

“Mmm… just like, the force kind of feels different here, y’know?”

 

Ben glanced at his uncle, who was at the head of the group, talking to some of the other kids about something.

 

“Yeah, sure,” he said.

 

“Well uh… anyway. Hopefully we get to the Temple soon?”

 

“We’re not far,” Ben told her, flatly.

 

She might’ve mumbled something in response, but Ben wasn’t really paying attention anymore and she left him alone.

 

*    *    *

 

The Temple, or Palace, or whatever, didn’t really look that different from when Ben had first visited it. It was still the same, bizarre mix of ancient spires and blockish, cold, modern architecture. Ben hadn’t really appreciated it before, but he found that he sort of liked the contradiction. His uncle probably would’ve scolded him for that.  _ The Empire  _ defiled  _ the Temple, Ben! _ he could hear his uncle say.  _ It’s a tragedy that we’ll never know what it looked like before the Empire! All that history and culture, lost! _

 

Which, actually, was more or less what Luke was currently telling the group.

 

“During the time of the Empire,” his uncle was explaining, stretching out his arms, his voice echoing oddly, “this was the Emperor’s audience chamber.”

 

They were currently standing in some sort of great room, duracrete with a high, vaulted ceiling. There were exits placed at regular intervals along the walls, and a higher, raised platform towards the far wall, which was probably where the Emperor had sat. Also along the walls were long windows, but they didn’t have glass or blinds or anything, so the light was direct and annoying.

 

“He spent most of his days here, dealing with the day-to-day business of running the Empire. However, at the time of the Jedi Order…”

 

Ben paid attention for a total of, mmm… maybe five minutes before he decided he didn’t actually care that much about the history lesson. Luke would probably turn it into some kind of moral lesson, too, and he’d probably even look at Ben while he did it, because he loved to remind Ben of his failings in that area. Which was funny to Ben, both because he’d become so good at hiding the majority of what his uncle found distasteful, and because his uncle assumed Ben cared about his opinion. Sure, it might have hurt him a  _ little  _ five, six years ago when his uncle corrected him on this behavior or that thought, but Ben was past that at this point.

 

No, what Ben wanted to do right now was take all this in for himself. Because again, he sort of liked this place. 

 

Still, massive as this was, Ben imagined it might be something else entirely if he were alone right now. Which, he noted, as Luke led them off to the left, into an adjacent chamber, he obviously was not. At the head of the group, next to his uncle, a blue-skinned Twi’lek girl was asking Luke a question.

 

_ Uyostete. _

 

Though most of them just called her Uyos. He stared at her. Luke finished answering her question and she caught his eye, gave him a disgusted frown, and looked away. One of her eyes still looked swollen, and her cheek still had a bandage covering most of it. Well, uh, no shit it did, that had happened only yesterday. But it felt longer than that, somehow.

 

As they walked through a corridor -- just more long windows and bare walls -- Ben thought about that. Yesterday, after they’d arrived on Coruscant, Luke had told his padawans that they were going to have sparring practice. After all, a field trip was no excuse to take a break from training. This elicited groaning from some, but excitement from others, including Ben. He sort of loved sparring. Especially now that almost everyone had a real lightsaber, which was  _ so  _ much better than the stupid wooden sticks they used to practice with.

 

It had been after their evening meal, when the sun was setting and the air pollution of the planet turned the sky this violent shade of red. It was laid out for them in the attempted flattery of the apartment they were staying in for their visit. It was bare, with a duracrete floor. One wall was entirely made of windows. Ben had been off by himself, stretching or whatever, when his uncle came to him.

 

“Ben,” he’d said, “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

 

Ben had looked up at him. “Uh, sure, Uncle. What is it?” he asked, standing up. He still wasn’t used to the idea of looking down on his uncle. He wasn’t sure he liked it.

 

Luke seemed to debate something before telling him, “Look, I know you’re a good fighter,  _ you  _ know you’re a good fighter, all of the other padawans know it too. But Ben --” he put a hand on Ben’s shoulder -- “please, you can get a bit… carried away, maybe, when we spar. Maybe think of this as an opportunity to teach the others. Do you understand?”

 

Ben looked critically at his uncle. “I…” he attempted.

 

“Look,” his uncle sighed, “you’re the oldest here, right? In cycles, anyways, and you -- you’ve been training with me the longest. And you sort of know the most too. The other students, I think they… look up to you, in a way. Just, please, all I’m asking is for you to set a good example, alright?”

 

“Yeah, alright.”

 

Luke gave him a smile -- which Ben thinly parodied -- gave his shoulder a squeeze, and went off to check on the others.

 

Ben scowled. He found he was unable to concentrate, found he had only mind for one, singular, raging line of thought:  _ Who the  _ fuck  _ does he think he is? As if I don’t know that? As if he knows what’s best for me. _

 

And maybe he hated him. He didn’t know.

 

Shaking his head, he went to join the assembly his uncle had called. He explained the normal rules, maybe some other things. Ben wasn’t really listening, nor did he pay attention to the first few pairs that went. They were up against the window-wall now, and he stood with his back leaning on it and his arms crossed. He supposed that maybe he should care -- maybe he might find his peers’ fighting styles interesting, or perhaps even educational. But he knew how it would be. He’d spend each match thinking,  _ They did that wrong, but I wouldn’t have.  _ Or some variation of that.

 

And anyway, right now he was too angry to really even bother with that, even though normally he’d watch, just to ensure his own position. He thought he might actually do it tonight; he thought he didn’t really care. He was shaken from the hateful reverie as his uncle called out the next pair.

 

“Uyostete!” he said, rubbing his hands together, searching. “And… Ben.”

 

Huffing, Ben pushed off from the wall and went to face Uyos in the middle of the floor. She gave him a smile, friendly and warm, and he stared back, passive. He looked at his uncle with narrowed eyes, removing his lightsaber from its holster on his hip and feeling it come to life. The familiar red energy pulsed in his hands, a life in its own right, maybe, and he adjusted his grip until it felt right. Across from him, Uyos had mirrored him, her own, blue saber out and ready. He hadn’t really noticed before, but it was curious how it almost perfectly matched her skin tone.

 

“Ready?” his uncle asked. They turned to Luke, bowed; they turned to each other, bowed. There was a beat. “Begin!”

 

The last syllable had not been uttered before Ben ran at Uyos. Unready but attempting to be, she rushed to meet him. He swung, she parried, and the familiar  _ thwung _ of energies mixing reverberated through him. She let out a pained cry, released, and they both stepped back a pace. They regarded one another for a moment. Ben had fought her enough times to know her, to know how she would think she was quick and agile because she was small, and Ben was not.

 

She was the first to move. Snorting, he blocked her. She aimed to hit again, and again, and he responded. They went back and forth this way for a while -- probably less than a minute, though when you were fighting it always felt like forever -- until she made a mistake.

 

He tried not to grin.

 

_ Alright, Master _ , he thought.

 

She pushed him back then. She drove him towards the wall, and Ben had the leisure to hear the other students’ gasps. Some idiot cheered for Uyos.

 

_ Fuck you _ .

 

Gritting his teeth, Ben truly parried her this time, holding her in place until he had pushed her back. He came at her now, swinging with real effort. He heard the gasps, the encouragements that she not give up. She was frantic, more or less waving her saber to avoid being hit.

 

They were back to the middle of the floor when he brought his saber down upon her, down with everything and an impassioned yell. She screeched as her arm cleared his arc narrowly. Whirling round, he hit her with the hilt of his lightsaber. There was a satisfying  _ smack _ , a collective gasp, and the momentum -- with some coercion from the force -- left Uyos on the floor.

 

His arm lifted -- reached out -- grabbed -- terror crept into Uyos’s eyes. Sneering, Ben willed his grip to begin to close. She gave a pathetic, garbled scream, and --

 

\-- and his arms were plastered at his sides, and his saber clattered, dead, on the floor.

 

“ _ Enough! _ ” his uncle shouted. “ _ That is enough! _ ”

 

Luke was beside the girl now, comforting her. Ben glared. He flared against his uncle’s force and managed only a miniscule twisting.

 

“Let me go!”

 

Uyos had been helped up by two other students and they were assisting her somewhere, and his uncle turned on him. There was fury in his eyes, an opaqueness which shocked Ben. He felt that old heat growing across his face, but he didn’t dare avert his eyes from his uncle’s. Anger, pain, something else, maybe, flashed through his eyes, and he waited for his uncle to say something, anything.

 

This had been his confession, and his uncle could not even -- Luke silently decided something, and released him.

 

Ben was rasping. His uncle was walking away, and all the students were still just... watching.

 

“Master.” He pantomimed innocence, or aimed to. “Are you upset with me? I thought you wanted me to set an example! Didn’t I do that?”

 

Mid-stride, Luke paused, and turned back to him.

 

“Ben, please,” he breathed. And there was a loathing in his voice and his tears, and oh, Ben knew all about that.

 

The corners of Ben’s mouth twitched. “I’m sorry, Master, I didn’t mean --”

 

“Benjamin,  _ please _ .”

 

And he exited. Uncertain at first, throwing glances over their shoulders at this revealed terror, the remaining students followed him. Ben watched them. His chest heaved, his skin felt electric. He felt larger than himself. He was shaking.

 

_ Would you have? _ asked the voice in the back of his mind, stirring.

 

_ No, _ he answered.

 

He did not need to explain the thrill of it to Snoke. Ben felt him settle down again. He called for his lightsaber and attached it back to his hip. As he exited, he stared only briefly at the cracks that now stretched up and down the windows.

 

*    *    *

 

Ben had left the Temple feeling small. It wasn’t bad, though, not really. The Temple was… a stronghold of the dark side, in a way. He felt it was likely terrifying, incomprehensible, to users of other inclinations besides his own.

 

It was still odd to wrap his mind around that. He could recall a young boy, with hair much fairer than his and rounder, softer cheeks being confused about the difference between the dark and the light. Now he knew. He felt the thrum and pulse of the dark, beckoning, comfortable. And -- more distant --he felt the shriek and pull of the light, frustrating and delicate.

 

He knew his uncle, and the other padawans, and his mom, even, did not understand inclinations. The light was the default and the dark was a choice you made. Ben supposed, in a sense, they were correct, because Ben  _ was  _ making a choice. At the end of the day, though… it didn’t feel like he’d ever really been presented with much of one.

 

*    *    *

 

A month or so after their field trip Ben had, in one of his rare moments of dispossession, asked his uncle if he could take a break from training, from him and the others, and visit Poe. Ben sensed a great relief in his uncle when Luke had acquiesced.

 

It didn’t exactly come as a surprise, Ben mused, as his ship landed. (Well, not his. Ben hated piloting as a rule, and so it was another student who had come to his aid, which wasn’t really that big of a favor since they were visiting their family on a planet near Chandrila anyway.) And… oh, right…

 

Ben thanked them and stepped out, stepped back and watched as they flew away, released a breath once he was alone. He looked around him at the positively fucking  _ balmy  _ day...

 

… he was on Chandrila.

 

He sucked in a breath. Something yelled from the trees, many somethings buzzed, the tall grass rustled in the breeze, in this huge field he found himself in. There were woods on all sides, and he  _ knew  _ those woods. Somehow, he could feel that they were the same as from his childhood, he could feel the energy he’d left here, along with his family. He was maybe a neighborhood or two over from his own, but it felt like practically no distance at all.

 

Well…

 

He checked his comm again. They’d made good time, and Poe still wasn’t going to be here for another hour or so. Well, okay then. He found his way to the main road and started off.

 

Ben looked intently over the familiar terrain. The gnarled, proud trees, the well-worn path, the occasional speeder, even the fucking sun -- it was all the same as when he’d last seen it. It was just so fucking _ bizarre _ , being back here. And he hadn’t visited since -- well, there had been training and his parents were busy with their own lives, and Poe only ever asked to see him when he was on Yavin-4, and within the year the Senate had moved to Hosnian Prime, so it wasn’t as if… as if... 

 

He exhaled a breath he’d been holding for four years.

 

He was already here, somehow, in his old neighborhood, and there was his old house, right where he’d left it. (Was “old” even the right term? It implied sequence.) It was quiet in the mid-day, and his steps sounded too loud, as if he’d been disturbing the abandoned houses. His house - identical except for the long driveway - remained, now lilac and squatting upon the land.

 

He paused at the edge of the driveway. He peered critically, curiously at this development. It was only duracrete, only not very wide and one story tall, and yet it seemed to loom before him, and its lines were rigid in ways he had not noticed as a child. There was a speeder parked in the driveway, medium-sized and with a cabin, the kind his mother had owned when he was younger. He felt out and, sure enough, he could see a larger and smaller being inside, maybe in the kitchen.

 

He glanced around him, adjusted the straps on his pack. Gripping them, he took a step forward, and another, and then he was in front of the door. He inhaled, knocked, exhaled. A woman opened the door -- tall, dark-skinned, lines on her face -- and a smallish child clung to her legs.

 

She stared at Ben. “Yes?” she said. “Can I help you?”

 

“Uhhhh…” Faced with this, Ben palled. He blinked. “I uh, sorry I just, um, I used to live here and I was just uh, I was just, I guess, coming to… I don’t really know. Um. Sorry, I’ll just --” He made to leave.

 

“Oh, well, alright then,” the woman said, concern creasing her face. “Bye, I suppose.”

 

“Yeah, bye,” Ben muttered, already halfway down the drive.

 

He looked at the sun, already beating a sheen of sweat back onto his forehead, and he looked at his comm again. Well, he still had a minute, and he guessed if he went the long way through the forest…

 

*    *    *

 

He didn’t tell Poe about visiting his old house. Between Poe’s aunts being excited to see him after so long, Poe being excited to see him, and Poe’s aunts being excited to see Poe, he wasn’t sure he would’ve gotten a chance to, even if he had wanted one. They stayed for dinner and then left for Yavin-4, and Ben was glad he was leaving Chandrila, even if Poe had made it more bearable. Still, when he thought about it, even Poe’s presence brought forth the stagnation of the planet.

 

“Are you okay, Ben?” 

 

Ben, who’d been determinedly staring out the window, twisted around. Poe was looking over at him from the pilot’s seat.

 

“Yeah, I - no, I’m fine, why?”

 

“You just looked upset.” The gentle purring of a ship travelling at lightspeed was all there was for a moment.

 

“Oh, uh, I’m not,” Ben said. And, feeling his blush rising -- “It’s um, it’s really nice to see you.”

 

Poe gave him one of those smiles of his, and Ben felt his breath catch. “Yeah, you too.”

 

“How long til we get there?”

 

“Not long,” Poe replied. “My dad’s looking forward to seeing you, I think. Kept asking me, is Ben coming next time you visit? You should invite Ben next time you come!”

 

Ben snorted, impressed by his improved parody. In fact… Ben studied Poe’s face, and was surprised to find how the gentle curves, which he’d known so well in his childhood, had given way to the dependable angles of an adult’s face, so reminiscent of Poe’s father’s. He thought of his own face, still too round and too disproportionate. He was not sure how he hadn’t noticed until now, and he also could not stop the anxious jittering that came with this knowledge.

 

“My parents ask about you too,” Ben told him. “They say the same thing ‘cause I think they think that if I, like, have the incentive of having you with me I’ll visit them finally. Um.”

 

Poe glanced at Ben. “When was the last time you visited them?”

 

“Um... like, a real visit? Maybe when I was 16, for my mom. 15 for Dad, when I um… when I left.” Poe did not comment on this, was blessedly intuitive in that sense. “But uh, I saw them not that long ago. Uncle Luke needed some parts for some of the speeders we have, so Dad came, and then uh, we visited Hosnian Prime for a thing, and so Mom wanted to come see us.”

 

“Yeah, you told me about that. But have you ever minded that? Not seeing them often?”

 

Ben shook his head. “No,” he said, certain. “Not really. I could choose to see them more often. My father would actually want to now, there’s no reason except I don’t want to.” The arch of Poe’s brows and his frown suggested pity, and Ben fought to push the flash of anger back down. “Not everyone has a good relationship with their parents, Poe,” he reminded him.

 

“Sure, I… I know that,” Poe said, “Sorry.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Presently they were breaching the atmosphere of Yavin-4, and this was the part that still captivated Ben, even after all these years. That transition from outer to inner world, that change from cold space to livable air, dark to light, absence to presence. He was mildly obsessed with it, in quiet moments.

 

It was early evening when they landed, and Ben still had not overcome the disorientation wrought from planetary time shifts like these. Grabbing his own pack and carrying Poe’s with the force, Ben hopped out and headed for the house. It was wooden and small, built in the center of a clearing in the forest. It would almost remind Ben of some of the places he’d stayed with his uncle on lonely little planets, if it hadn’t been for the ornateness of the frame. It was  _ cute _ , maybe, the life Poe’s parents had tried to build here. He did not need to be reminded of the irony interposed between that effort and his and Poe’s friendship.

 

Ben went up to the second floor, to where Poe’s room was. It was cluttered, even with disuse, but it was still cozy in a way. The floorboards creaked and he set down their packs on Poe’s bed and,  _ oh _ , no, they would be sleeping here together tonight, which they always did, always  _ had _ , any time they slept over each other’s houses, but -- 

 

“Ben?” Poe’s questing voice came to him from downstairs.

 

Ben whipped around. “Coming!” he yelled back.

 

They decided to go for a walk. As a rule, Ben hated the heat, but having Poe there was a cool comfort. The forest was almost pretty. Ben felt that, maybe in another life, he might have loved this. The trees were impossibly tall, crowned with dense foliage and festooned with creepers. There was more life here than Ben could ever remember encountering, and so he did not dare reach beyond himself, except to Poe. He didn’t need to touch Poe anymore to feel him, but when Poe reached out his hand, Ben didn’t deny it. So it was loud, and hot, and it sort of fouled Ben’s mood, but not enough that Poe seemed to sense anything.

 

They came upon a stream, babbling and decorated with largish rocks. A boulder sat in the middle, carried there perhaps by some flood years ago. Poe waded out to it and climbed to the top, and turned to Ben, smile expectant.

 

Ben sighed with bemusement, and used the Force to hold water away from him as he followed. He clambered to the top and sat beside Poe.

 

“I know I should’ve probably learned not to ask this by now,” Poe said, “but you can do that with the Force?”

 

Ben laughed, “Hey, it’s a nice gauge for how other people who aren’t, you know, force users see what I do.” He leaned into Poe. “Aaaaand it’s kinda nice to know I can still impress you.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Poe said, turning to him.

 

Ben’s eyes widened and he increased the distance between them once more. “Y - yeah.”

 

Poe gave him a smile. “Yeah well, anyway, how was Coruscant?”

 

Ben wiped at his forehead, began to pull at his shirt to cool himself. “It was… fine, I guess. I don’t know. The Temple was cool, it was, uh, old? I could feel a lot there. That wasn’t light.” He glanced at Poe through the corner of his eye. He was still listening. “And I, I guess I sort of…” Ben was certain his face was positively burning as he dropped into this place the recountment of what he’d done, done to Uyos. And to his uncle, he realized. It didn’t change how he felt.

 

Poe was quiet for a moment. There was a pain in Ben’s legs; he looked down to see he’d been digging his nails in. 

 

“And… Uyos is the one who’s been after you before, right?”

 

“Kind of? She thinks she’s better a lot. That’s why Luke paired us up.”

 

“And she’s not seriously hurt?”

 

“No,” Ben snorted. “I hit her in the face. I didn’t, like, cut off her hand.”

 

“Then I don’t see anything wrong with that. If she’s really as good as she thinks, she should’ve kept up with you, right? And the uh… the force… choke… thing --” he mimed a hand around his neck -- “you said that was just like, a thing you practiced?”

 

“Y - yeah,” Ben said. “Yeah. It is. Precursor to being able to stop someone all the way with the Force and um… that’s kind of how I felt about it.” Ben drew his knees up to him. “Well, uh, anyway how is -- how’s your training going?”

 

“Good!” Poe told him. “Like I told you last week, we should get to start actually flying and…”

 

*    *    *

 

After Kes had come home and they’d had dinner, Poe decided he wanted to sit outside and talk. He led Ben to the force sensitive tree in their yard. According to Poe, the tree had been a gift to his parents from Luke. It looked more or less like every other tree Ben had ever seen, except for the faint blue glow it emitted. This was the only physical manifestation of the force, unless you counted the blade of a lightsaber. But this was pure. It wasn’t tainted with any personal energy, like the kyber crystals in a saber had to be.

 

They sat, leaning back against the tree and each other. Poe rested his head on Ben’s shoulder. The night was clear, and maybe Yavin-4 wasn’t Ben’s favorite planet, but the way the sky was displayed in spectacular effervescence made him feel he didn’t hate it. He wiped at his forehead.

 

“Does everything look like that to you?” Poe asked. “Like, with the glow.”

 

“No,” Ben said. “Feels that way though.”

 

Poe sighed. “I was thinking about this earlier, but, remember when we were kids and we’d pretend to be a Jedi and a rebel pilot? I just… it’s funny that that’s actually how it went.”

 

“I guess. That was always fun... Sometimes I miss it, which I hate. I don’t want to be connected to the past like that.”

 

Poe sat up. “Your childhood was that awful to you?”

 

Ben crossed his arms. “That’s not what I... it was fine. Could’ve been worse. I’m not stupid, I know that. But I don’t want to be... I don’t know. I don’t want to be connected to my family, I guess.”

 

“Okay,” Poe said, but Ben knew he still didn’t accept or empathize with that. Whatever that meant. And Ben knew --

 

“But look, all I’ve ever tried to say is… I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, but when I was nine, my mom died. And it sucked, you know? I miss her all the time, and I see how you are with  _ your  _ mom, and Ben, all she wants is to just let you know she loves you, and I just --” he looked at Ben -- “I just don’t want you to end up regretting anything.”

 

Well, yeah, Ben pretty much knew that. His mom had told him years ago.

 

“I’m sorry about your mom,” Ben told him, throwing what he assumed was the appropriate weight behind his words. “Really. Thank you for telling me.” He still didn’t feel he had found the right amount of sincerity, and it kind of sounded like too much. That was always hard.

 

“Thanks.” Poe sounded comforted, maybe.

 

But even with this confession, he needed to tell Poe. He’d wanted to for weeks, and he had to.

 

“But Poe, I’m not sure you understand.  _ I know _ she  _ thinks  _ she’s doing what’s best, and that both of them have  _ always  _ thought that. But they just don’t get it. They don’t -- they don’t feel things the same. My mom, you know, she can use the force but she doesn’t really --”

 

“Your mom’s only not a Jedi because she chose not to be. You have to stop holding that against her.”

 

Ben felt his anger rising. “I’m  _ not _ . I don’t care about that. She’s powerful, whatever, I don’t  _ care _ . But Poe, she’s like my uncle. She’s... she only knows the one side, or only thinks she does. And my dad has never known.”

 

_ I don’t know that you ever have understood either _ . Ben surprised himself.

 

“Ben, what are you saying?”

 

Ben ran a shaky hand through his hair. He stared at his lap. “I don’t use the light,” he admitted. He sounded quiet and scared. “I don’t know that I ever have. It just doesn’t come to me. Not like for the others.”

 

Poe was visibly attempting to grasp this. “So… what? What does that make you?”

 

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve been asking myself that for years. But I --” His voice caught. He wiped at his eyes. He could feel Poe touching his back.

 

“Does Luke know?”

 

“I don’t know how he couldn’t,” Ben laughed, bitter. “It’s not as if I’ve really tried to, you know, hide it.” 

 

His lightsaber, the way he didn’t sense the things he was supposed to, the abilities he was best at. If Luke didn’t know, if there wasn’t a careful, constructed ignorance about him, he objectively deserved Ben’s hatred. As it stood, Luke had had as much of a hand in his current alienation as anyone else. But oh, they’d only ever been trying to  _ help _ .

 

“I’m sorry, Ben,” Poe said, “that you feel this way.”

 

“It’s fine, it’s just -- it’s… what  _ can _ I do, if not be a Jedi? There’s nothing else.”

 

“You’ll figure it out,” Poe told him. “I know you will. I know  _ we  _ will.”

 

“How can you be so sure?”

 

“Because I  _ know  _ you, Ben. You’re capable and determined, and I know that because I love you I --”

 

Ben stared, wide-eyed, at Poe. Poe’s breath had stopped. The small circles Poe had been rubbing into Ben’s back had stopped. They were very close now.

 

“You want to kiss me,” Ben told him.

 

It was a fact, an unnecessary suggestion. Ben hadn’t meant to.

 

But Poe’s lips -- soft, warm, pliant -- and the way his mouth opened. And the way they grew into one another. And the way their energies mixed in a way Ben had never felt before; blossoming, blooming, resplendent. Oh, oh,  _ oh _ .

 

And they pulled back, just slightly, and Ben had maybe never felt so connected. His energy  _ was  _ Poe’s energy. This was new. This was something else entirely.

 

Poe giggled, clear and sweet, and Ben mirrored him, and their humor grew until they were holding onto each other, stomachs aching from how hard they laughed.

 

“Ben,” Poe breathed. “Oh,  _ Ben _ .”

 

Ben didn’t know that he had ever grinned so hard. “That was…”

 

Poe shook his head. “No, no, don’t.”

 

Ben looked at Poe with concern. “Bad?”

 

Poe snorted, “What?  _ No _ , oh god, no. It --” He sighed. “I just, didn’t know if we would ever --”

 

“Prohibition on attachments aren’t part of the Jedi code anymore,” he told Poe. “My uncle got rid of that.”

 

“That’s not why.”

 

“What then?”

 

Poe was again shaking his head. “Nothing. Nothing, don’t --” He turned back towards Ben now, was leaning in now. “Don’t worry about it,” Poe said, against his lips, and they joined again.

 

*    *    *

 

“Have I ever told you about the circumstances of my death, grandson?”

 

Ben stared up at his grandfather -- or, rather, the force ghost of his grandfather -- and for maybe the sixth time in their conversation, he rolled his eyes. He’d been roused from sleep by Vader, a warm, ethereal glow he knew only he could see. It was a few months later, and Ben was back on Yavin-4. He’d disentangled himself from Poe and stumbled outside, to where he currently sat, under the force sensitive tree.

 

“ _ Yes _ ,” Ben said, flatly, “I  _ know _ .”

 

“Then,” Vader continued, “you should  _ know  _ how these attachments only serve as a hindrance to your training.”

 

Ben yawned, and looked at Vader with creased brows and a curled upper lip. In all the times his grandfather had appeared to him, he’d always looked slightly different. Today, half his face was obscured by a fragmented mask, though the flesh Ben could see was unrealistically unburnt and smooth. His visible eye was a black pit from which a light inside gleamed, and he wore an odd mix of Vader-suit and Jedi garb. Like he couldn’t decide what he wanted to be, Ben had always thought.

 

“Yeah,  _ okay, _ but things aren’t  _ like _ that anymore. Even Jedi don’t need to avoid that anymore. Luke got rid of that, I thought I told you this.”

 

He could feel the darkness in his grandfather’s Force, swirling and just barely controlled. 

 

“I suppose this lesson bears repeating. Debatable as it is, I did fall to the dark side because of love. My love for my mother, and my love for your grandmother. And I  _ failed  _ because of those same weaknesses -- to your uncle, this time. I had assumed,  _ boy _ , that given your feelings towards your own family, that you might be above this. I have apparently assumed incorrectly.”

 

Vader’s voice was tight, forced full with disappointment. Ben knew what game he was playing, and as angry as he was about it, it worked. And -- well -- how  _ couldn’t  _ it? Ben had idolized his grandfather as a child, though his understanding of his fanaticism had changed as he grew older. Especially now that he knew his grandfather -- or knew parts of him -- and had since he was fourteen, maybe. Still, Vader served as this… beacon, this symbol, of what he might be. And so that held weight with him, even if he didn’t want it to.

 

“I just…” Ben tried, “I hear you, you know? I do. But, um, I just -- Snoke hasn’t, you know, given me any details about what I’m going to be doing yet. Not really anyway. He’s having me meet with some people soon, I think, but it’s -- Anyways. All I’m saying is that if I don’t have any goal in mind right now, then does it really matter what I do right now? Is it bad that I’m, I don’t know,  _ happy _ ?” He crossed his arms.

 

“ _ Benjamin _ ,” his grandfather said, and Ben fought not to squirm. “How do you suppose these two halves of yourself could fit together? Do you not see how they are disparate?”

 

Ben frowned. He started at his hands, twisted in his lap. “So then what do I do?” He was surprised by how small his voice sounded, how afraid.

 

“You know what you must do,” Vader told him. “I feel it within you.” Ben shivered. “And I do believe you have the power to do so. Or, at the very least, that it is within your reach.”

 

“Yeah,” Ben said, “okay.”

 

His grandfather vanished. Ben was left, staring blankly at the space where he had been.

 

Ben saw himself, weeks ago, intent on the kill. And he saw himself, earlier with Poe, lightheaded with good feeling. His grandfather was right; how  _ could  _ those things coexist?

 

But he still didn’t know where that left him.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes we can't save the ones we love, especially if they don't want to be saved. And even more especially if they don't think they need to be.

**“I am not good. I am not virtuous. I am not sympathetic. I am merely and above all a creature of intense passionate feeling. I feel—everything. It is my genius. It burns me like fire.”**

**-Mary Maclane**

 

The last time that Ben saw his parents was six months before his twenty-second birthday. He hadn’t known that then, of course, though he had sort of felt it. In a way, with everything else going on, it would’ve been... odd if he’d had to see them another time. Another “normal” visit.

 

Had this even been? And really, had any encounter with his parents ever been normal? The way Poe, or other friends, described the way they felt about their parents, he didn’t think so. He’d never really understood that, even if he hadn’t always  _ known  _ that. That was probably… Of all the revelations he’d made in his adolescence, the oddest was probably arriving at the acute understanding of just how different he was.

 

And anyways, it wasn’t like this was  _ his  _ idea. His father, apparently now having forgiven Ben for some past trespass (which Ben couldn’t even really remember at this point, with how many there apparently were), decided he really did miss his son and wanted to see him. And his mother, never one to pass up such an opportunity to show her  _ love _ , decided she wanted to be there too.

 

So yeah, they were all here in his mother’s apartment on Hosnian Prime. Eating dinner. Or something like that.

 

“Master Skywalker says hi, by the way,” Ben said, glancing up at his parents.

 

“Luke, your Uncle Luke?” his father said.

 

“No,” Ben said, with condescension. “The other one.” His father returned his fake smile.

 

“So!” his mother tried, “How is your training going, anyway? I feel like when we talk you never tell me about that.”

 

“Maybe if you weren’t always yelling at me I’d have a chance to,” Ben muttered.

 

His mother stared at him. “What was that, Benjamin?”

 

“Nothing,” Ben said pleasantly, smiling.

 

He felt his fists clench under the table. His mother continued to eye him. He took a breath.

 

“Anyway, good, I guess?” he said. “Ma - Uncle Luke said he’s running out of things to teach me, I guess. Like, um, I learned all the different lightsaber forms. Or the ones that we uh, we know.”

 

“Were there more?”

 

Ben nodded. “Yeah… maybe two or three more? Uncle Luke told me at one point but I don’t really… anyway, I guess I like the fifth best? It's um… it comes more easily.” He swallowed, his eyes roving over the apartment for maybe the sixth time during that meal alone. It seemed so small, but his mother had said it was actually a good size, at least compared to other apartments in Republic City.

 

“And what’s that one like?” his father asked. And if he hadn’t known his father, he wouldn’t have recognized how careful his tone was there. Actually, both of them had been...

 

_ Idiots _ .

 

“It’s more  _ aggressive _ ,” Ben explained. “You have to be on the offensive. It takes a lot. The other padawans my age don’t get it.”

 

Ben watched as his mother shifted, side-eyed his father. They knew all about Ben and the other padawans.

 

“And how are the others, sweetie?”

 

“Fine, I guess.” Ben shrugged. “We don’t talk much.”

 

Not that he’d really tried, after Uyos. Not that she had been the only one. Luke monitored any sparring Ben did now very carefully.

 

“But, um, Uncle Luke’s been giving me more, I guess, private instruction lately.”

 

“Luke told me that,” his mother said. “I think that’s great if that’s what works for you.” Ben wanted to wipe the over-sweet smile off her face; instead, he just took another breath. She turned to his father. “So, honey, how has --”

 

And so the adults -- (Er, was Ben an adult now? He still wasn’t really clear on that one.) Well anyway, the adults -- his parents and various friends they’d invited for the occasion -- all started talking about something or other, but everyone was done so Ben just asked if he could leave, and his mom said yes. And he still wasn’t really good with sensing other people’s emotions, but even he could feel how the tension left the room with him.

 

The apartment was essentially a square, with different rooms on one wall. He went to the one his mother had prepared for him. Finally alone, Ben slumped against the door and slid down. He groaned, felt out for something small and helpless, found it crawling on the wall outside. He pulled out its energy, took it like a long, satisfying drink, and sighed.

 

All the things his parents had done to him swirled in his head as a blunted pain. How they’d ignored him, how they didn’t know him, how they’d never really cared to even try and understand him. He wished he’d just hurt them by refusing their offer in the first place.

 

Well, whatever. He pulled out his comm and checked for any messages. Poe had, apparently. Well, Poe was really the only person who messaged him anyway.

 

But, there was one:  _ I miss you but I understand that you wanted to see your parents! Hopefully Luke will let you come visit sometime soon! _

 

Poe had asked him, about a week ago, if he wanted to visit. But Ben had been bitter about Poe’s new boyfriend, and his mom had approached him the same day, so he’d gone with that. Not that either was much better.

 

He shot back:  _ I should’ve told them no and visited you _ .

 

After a few moments, the screen lit up.

 

_ That bad? _ Poe asked.   
  


_ Kinda. Just forgot how much I don’t like them I guess. _

 

_ You should see if you can leave early and visit!  We’re having a party on Benduday and it’d be cool if you could come. _

 

Ben thought about that for a moment. Maybe he did want to see Poe, but the idea of having to do it where it would be loud, and crowded, and he’d  _ definitely  _ have to see Poe and his boyfriend (whatever his name was), he just couldn’t do that. He didn’t know why he was still so sensitive about that.  _ He’d _ broken up with  _ Poe _ , after all.

 

But he guessed he just still hated the idea that Poe could get over him like that, after Ben had imposed himself and left traces of himself all over. Any other force user Poe became intimate with would sense it. And probably non-users too, in other ways. Even though they’d only dated for six months, and that had been a year ago, now.

 

He replied:  _ Yeah, I’ll see what I can do. _

 

_ Great! _

 

Ben switched off his comm and put it away.

 

*          *          *

 

The next day, after breakfast, his mom asked him if he wanted to go for a walk. Ben thought that maybe that wouldn’t be the  _ worst  _ thing ever, and with nothing else to do anyway, he said that sure he did.

 

It was summer in Republic City, which meant it was stiflingly hot. Not, maybe, as bad as Yavin-4 during a heatwave, but also not much better. And even though he wasn’t with his uncle or the other padawans, he still had to wear his stupid robes. At least Uncle Luke had allowed him to switch out the dusty gray and white for black. (Or, more accurately, he’d gotten tired of fighting with Ben over it.) And, okay, the robes were hot, but he still had to admit to admit to himself that he felt at least  _ kind of  _ cool walking around like that. Especially with this now being the capital of the New Republic and all, people generally knew what him dressing like that meant, if they didn’t already guess who he was based on his mom.

 

His mom went on for the first ten or fifteen minutes talking about what she’d been doing in the Senate lately, as if she didn’t turn  _ every single  _ quick comm into an hour-long detail on this exact subject. (Another reason why she was clueless on Ben’s training.) Ben felt like he was going to scream by the time she finally turned to him and said, “You know, I’m still amazed at how tall you’ve gotten.” She looked up, as if marveling at  the phenomenon that apparently was puberty.

 

“Uh, yeah,” Ben said. He was nearly a foot taller than his mother now – which was definitely weird – and it still didn’t seem like he was done yet.

 

“Who knows where you get it from though,” she continued, laughing.

 

Ben frowned. “My grandfather, maybe?” he suggested. She looked at him, startled, and he hastily added, “I just mean, you know, maybe any of my grandparents were, uh, taller?”

 

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Leia said. “Well anyway, I still don’t understand why you felt you had to dye your hair so dark. It was so pretty when it was blond.”

 

Ben pulled and twisted at one of his loose waves. He’d always hated his blond hair. It looked too much like his parents’, or Luke’s. And besides, he kind of liked how the darker color contrasted on him, and if it bothered his parents, then there was that too.

 

“Sorry?” he guessed.

 

His mother shrugged. She saw someone she apparently knew and waved, then turned back to him and said, “Well anyway, how are things with you and Poe? Have you visited him at all recently? I know the breakup was hard on you.”

 

Ben stared at her for a moment. “We’re…  _ fine _ . We talk. It’s all –” He shook his head, and, in an odd moment of clarity, he stopped walking. “Why are you doing this?”

 

His mother blinked back at him, also stopping. “Doing what?”

 

“You  _ know  _ what. Why are you trying so hard to – you know what? Never mind. Forget it.”

 

“Ben, what are you  _ talking  _ about?”

 

He could feel his mother’s indignation, mainly because she was practically forcing it on him. Was she really so fucking pathetic?

 

“Nothing, Mom. don’t worry about it.” He continued to walk, not waiting for her to catch up to him.

 

*          *          *

 

By the time Ben was leaving the next night, he felt just about ready to explode. He wasn’t sure when his tolerance for his family had become so low.

 

“Hey, try not to make it another five years before we see you again?” his father laughed, embracing him.

 

He played at being the loving son and hugged back.

 

“Yeah,” he said, throwing what humor he could manage into it.

 

Next came his mother.

 

“Goodbye Ben,” she told him, “We love you.”

 

“I know,” he said, bending down so she could kiss his forehead.

 

Uncle Luke was waiting for him and really all he could still think about, as he left, was how it felt like a missed opportunity.

 

*    *    *

 

Poe was in the middle of telling Ben about some mission he’d gone on when Ben had interrupted. Okay, no, Poe had nearly been done anyway and he’d been going on for like  _ ten  _ minutes and Ben had already been nice enough to listen that long so --

 

“They still haven’t told me,” he said.

 

Poe paused, frowning. “What? Told you what, Ben?”

 

“About him. Them? But you know.”

 

He crossed his arms, looked off into the distance.

 

“Uhhh… no, no I really -- oh! You mean your grandfather? Vader or Skywalker or uh, yeah?”

 

Ben nodded. “They don’t want me to know. They don’t trust me.”

 

Poe licked his lips, considering. “Um... maybe you should talk to them about it?”

 

Ben looked up at Poe. He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, cause  _ that  _ would definitely --”

 

Poe sighed, “Look, Ben, I don’t know what you want me to --”

 

“What? Are you annoyed with me?”

 

“Kinda,” Poe said. Ben stared at him confusedly. “Look, it’s just --” he took a breath -- “I was trying to tell you about something  _ I  _ care about, in  _ my  _ life, and you interrupted with -- well, you know, I feel like we just  _ keep  _ coming back to this, and I care about you, I do, buddy, but --”

 

“Yeah, okay.”

 

“Ben,” Poe said, exasperated, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t, don’t do -”

 

“Do  _ what _ ?” Ben accused.

 

“Take this out of proportion! Overreact!” Poe yelled.

 

They froze, stared in each other’s eyes.

 

Ben nodded, “Yeah, okay. I see.”

 

“No, Ben, wait, I didn’t mean --”

 

“No, whatever, it’s fine. You think I overreact? You think I’m stupid and irrational? Okay. Whatever. Nice to know you’ve apparently never listened to me in the first place. And you know, you know --” Ben was rapidly shaking his head -- “You just -- you think you’re  _ so  _ smart, and you just GET people, but you only get  _ your  _ view of people. You’ve never understood -- you never even  _ tried  _ to --”

 

“Oh, oh, what?  _ I’m  _ the shitty friend?” Poe laughed, bitterly, though Ben could see he’d started crying, “Ben, fucking  _ honestly _ , when was the  _ last time YOU  _ considered feelings that weren’t your own, hm? Huh? And  _ I’m  _ supposed to just exclusively care about you and  _ your  _ feelings, right? When was the last time you even cared -- even  _ tried  _ to care -- about mine! You think I never noticed how fake you are? How insincere you always are? Well fucking  _ excuse me  _ if I can get a read on most people but I have a little difficulty with my fucking  _ psychopath _ of a  _ best friend _ !”

 

Ben was breathing heavily, he was shaking, his hand went to his lightsaber but he stopped himself. 

 

“ _ Fuck you _ ,” he managed.

 

“Whatever,” Poe said, switching off the comm.

 

Screaming, Ben had smashed his comm after that. And Poe had tried to reach him after that, sure, but Ben wasn’t going to bend for that. Poe was right; he didn’t care, hadn’t cared for a long time.

 

*          *          *

 

“I think you might need a break from this.”

 

Ben put away his lightsaber. Panting, he wiped at his damp forehead.

 

“What?”

 

“I said,” Uncle Luke repeated, in between equally as labored breaths, “that you should take some time away from this. From training.”

 

Ben narrowed his eyes at his uncle. “Why?”

 

“Because, Ben,” Luke said, exasperated, “when was the last time you did something that wasn’t spar? Or meditate? Or study?”

 

“I…”

 

“It was when you last visited your family, right? And that was a year ago. So, I think it might be good for you to spend some time, you know, not training.”

 

“But you spend all your time being a Jedi! Why can’t I –”

 

He stopped himself, and the uncomfortable fact sat between them. They both knew what Ben couldn’t do.

 

“Look,” Luke said, sitting on the ground and patting the space next to him. “I’m not asking you to stop your training altogether or anything. Just, you know, take a week, even. Can’t you go visit Poe? I’m sure he’d want to see you.”

 

Ben frowned. He hadn’t told anyone – had no one to tell, really – that he hadn’t spoken to Poe in months. 

 

“I guess,” Ben said. “But isn’t what we’re doing right now kind of important? I don’t want to miss that.” 

 

They were on some outer rim planet with the rest of the padawans, where Luke was looking for some Jedi artifact. Ben hadn’t paid attention when he’d explained it a week ago, and he didn’t really feel like asking at this point either.

 

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” Luke conceded. He patted Ben on the shoulder and stood up. “But let me know, okay? I’ll get you wherever you need to go, you just have to tell me where.”

 

“Sure,” Ben said. And Luke didn’t really bring it up again after that.

 

*          *          *

 

It was a month before he turned twenty-two when he first met the others. He’d finally asked Luke for some time alone, and Luke had been visibly overjoyed at his request. He didn’t go to see family or friends, though. Instead, he was on some  _ other  _ outer rim planet – when was the last time he’d been out of the outer rim? – meeting a group of other force users, and Snoke, for the first time.

 

Ben didn’t particularly know what to make of that. It was surreal; Snoke was surreal. And well, of course he’d  _ known  _ Snoke since he was young – probably his entire life, whether he realized it or not – but well, having him as an actual, flesh and blood (if that was accurate), physical presence?

 

Ben first saw him, deathly white against the gory tones of the red, barren planet Snoke apparently lived on, as he stepped out of the ship he’d borrowed. He still hated flying, but he’d been practical enough to get a better sense for it, especially at the insistence of Snoke and his grandfather.

 

Ben wasn’t sure if it was weird or not that he looked pretty much how he did when he’d appeared to Ben in dreams and visions. He guessed he was sort of half expecting a two-foot-tall green man or something. But no, it was the same, disfigured, towering… whatever species Snoke was, that he’d always known. Snoke must have heard his thoughts, because he gave what Ben assumed was a smile as Ben had approached.

 

“Hello, Ben,” he’d said, and his voice was the same garbled growling Ben had heard his entire life. “Let’s go inside,” he’d offered, gesturing to the humble, wooden dwelling behind him.

 

It was deceiving; the interior was as modern as any building in Coruscant or Hosnian Prime he’d ever seen. He couldn’t help his unease, as Snoke gave him a tour – lasting a total of ten minutes, maybe – and had him sit at the kitchen table. At least, since it had been made for someone of Snoke’s size, Ben could actually sit comfortably, for once.

 

“You’re anxious,” Snoke stated.

 

“I guess,” Ben said, looking anywhere but Snoke’s face. “I don’t know. This is all, uh, new.”

 

“Only if you decide to see it that way.”

 

Ben licked his lips. “Yeah, that’s – that’s a good point, um. Yeah.”

 

“Do you know why I’ve asked you here?”

 

“You said…” Ben thought for a moment. “You said, uh, something about, um, something – others? Other force users? You didn’t really, uh… explain more, though…” He glanced up at Snoke, who was staring at him, passively.

 

He looked to the left and his tone was light, could’ve passed for nonchalant, as he said, “Though you’ve had most of my focus these years, Ben, you are not the only student I’ve taken on. There are others. Some who did not need me to train them, but others, nonetheless. Like you, they also do not feel the light very strongly. Your shared inclinations present a unique opportunity.”

 

He paused, glanced back at Ben, and continued, “However, it does remain that you are the most skilled, most powerful, of all of them.” Ben stared, eyebrows raised, at that. Not that he necessarily doubted that, but hearing it from Snoke was –

 

“You’ll be meeting them, tonight. If all goes well, I intend for you to lead them.”

 

“Lead them?” Ben repeated, feeling the words in his mouth. “What would we uh, what would we be… doing?”

 

Snoke held up a hand. “In good time.” He stood up. “Now, come with me. We have much to do to prepare.”

 

Ben nodded, followed him. He led Ben to a smaller room. Ben realized that was another similarity from his dreams – Snoke just sort of glided in real life, too. There was a cot in one corner, and a wardrobe opposite that. Late afternoon light, violently pink, streamed from a window on the far wall. Ben assumed Snoke probably didn’t live here.

 

A pile of black sat on the bed. Ben’s eyes went wide, and he looked at Snoke.

 

“Are those…?”

 

Snoke nodded. “I would like for you to wear them tonight.”

 

Ben’s hand ghosted over the piece on top – the mask he’d designed months earlier – and he found he was shaking.

 

“Okay,” he said.

 

“I’ll leave you to change,” Snoke told him, stepping out. He paused at the threshold. “And Ben?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Try not to sound like such a child.”

 

*          *          *

_  
This is it. This is real. This is it. This is what I’ve been waiting for. This is _ –

 

“Stop pacing.”

 

Ben froze, resumed his position next to Snoke.

 

“Right. Sorry, Master.”

 

His voice was two-fold. He heard himself, inside the mask, the same as he’d always sounded – oddly deep, but stilted and variable. And he heard himself, outside the mask, still deep, electronic, steady.

 

It was night now, full night. The landscape stretched out, flatly, into the nether. And the stars, innumerable, blinked in their infinity, as if attempting to send him a message. This was nothing he didn’t know. This was alright.

 

The ships came presently, one by one, nine in all. And the others – these knights, they were to be called – all had their own costumes and masks, and he guessed they were to be a proper little group. Snoke said some things, and Ben said some things, as their new leader, but Ben couldn’t really concentrate on any of it.

 

And that night, when he couldn’t sleep until very late. And the next morning, as he woke up too early and watched the sun rise.

 

There was a comfort. An exhale.

 

_ This is right _ .

 

*          *          *

 

He returned a week later with knowledge of his purpose. The others had left after that first night. The Knights of Ren, he guessed, though where that name came from he couldn’t have said. So the rest of the week Snoke had spent training him. Of course, what Luke had taught him had been useful and easy, but what Snoke taught him felt, well, right. It was the first time he’d ever gotten the training he really needed, and he thought of that constantly upon his return.

 

They were still on some jungle planet, still searching for an artifact or a temple or something. He didn’t really care, and no one bothered to ask if he had any thoughts about what they were doing anyways. At one point, as they were trekking through this hot, moist hell, it occurred to him that he hadn’t actually spoken to any of the others in a solid two or three days. They had learned, then, and Ben was glad for the time to think.

 

On another occasion, a day’s silence was broken in the evening, when his uncle came to talk to him. Ben was sitting at the edge of camp, back against some trees and out of the circle of light cast by their fire. Had anyone inquired, he would’ve said he was keeping watch, maybe. Luke had his comm out, and was looking at Ben inquisitively. Ben nodded and Luke sat down beside him.

 

“Have you been able to get any service?” he began. “I’ve been receiving messages from Leia, and some others, but I can’t get anything back to her.”

 

Ben frowned. “No,” he said. “She’s been sending me stuff too, but I guess I… haven’t really felt like responding to it anyway. So I haven’t tried, I, I guess. Sorry.” He could feel himself blushing, and why were his hands shaking?

 

Luke looked at the ground, then back to Ben.

 

“Okay,” he said. “Did you two have another fight? Not that it’s any of my business, I just want to help. If I can.”

 

Ben grimaced. “Not since the last time I saw her. We’ve barely talked since then. Uh, my father too.” He blinked. “And don’t…” he made a sweeping motion with his hand – “I don’t need your opinion on that.”

 

“I just –”

 

Ben turned to him. “I  _ know  _ what you ‘ _ just _ ’,” he mocked, “You’re not the first fucking person to ever  _ just  _ tell me something. That’s  _ all  _ anyone ever seems to do. I guess it never, y’know,  _ occurred  _ to anyone that maybe I know what’s best for me, being myself or whatever? But whatever.” He turned away again.

 

“Ben,” Luke said, tone delicate, “that’s not what I was trying to say. You’re an adult. I… I may not understand, but I can at least try to respect your decisions. But I ju – I want you to be happy. And I j – I question if this path you’re on – if that’s the best way for it.”

 

Ben gave Luke a withering look.

 

“My path?” he asked.

 

“I think we both know you haven’t taken the normal path of a Jedi. Maybe that’s partially my fault. I mean, I still don’t really know what that really  _ is _ , maybe I should’ve guided you more. But you seem –”

 

“You talk about it like what I’m doing is wrong. Like you failed me.”

 

Luke sighed, “Stop interrupting me Ben. I’m proud of you for finding your way. And you’ve obviously excelled at any training I’ve given you – I mean,  _ kriff _ , I don’t even have anything else to teach you anymore, and if I thought you were ready for it I’d have you tea – Anyway. I guess I worry about you, and if what you’re best at is what’s most useful, as a Jedi.” Luke took a breath, ran a hand through his hair. “And I think there’s something I should tell you.”

 

Ben feigned interest. “What is it?”

 

Luke’s voice shook as he explained, “You know how… you know how you used to be really into Darth Vader, as a kid?” Ben nodded. “Well, Leia and I – your parents and I – what we never told you is. He’s your grandfather. Leia and I’s father.”

 

“ _ What _ ?” Ben said, staring wide-eyed at his uncle.

 

“I’m sorry we never told you, Ben. But Leia always wanted to keep it a secret from everyone else and we were just worried that –”

 

He looked Ben in the eyes, brows creasing and frown forming. Ben stared back.

 

“What?”

 

“Wait a minute,” Luke said. “You knew.”

 

“What? What are you talking about? Of course I didn’t –”

 

Luke stood up, was shaking his head. “No, no, you  _ knew  _ that already. You were pretending to be surprised.”

 

Ben stood too. “How could I  _ possibly  _ have known that? If you and my parents were the only ones who knew, who would’ve told me? And why would I even lie about not  knowing?”

 

Luke crossed his arms, was shaking his head at the ground. He froze.

 

“Wait. Did he visit you?”

 

“Did who…?”

 

“Anakin. My father. Your – Darth Vader! Did his force ghost visit you? Ben.”

 

“N-no? Uncle Luke, I swear, I really don’t –”

 

Luke swarmed up close to him, held his shoulders, and looked deep into Ben’s eyes. He could feel Luke now, frenzied, pushing against him. He made a disgusted sort of face.

 

“ _ Please, Ben,” _ he implored, “ _ please.  _ If he –” his voice broke – “if he did, you’re - you’re not in trouble. But I  _ need  _ to know.”

 

Ben looked back at him for a few moments. They were both breathing heavily, for some reason. Ben inhaled, and shook his uncle off.

 

“What I don’t understand,” he began, laughing without humor, “is why you thought you could hide that from me. What? So I wouldn’t turn out  _ evil  _ like him? So I wouldn’t  _ ‘fall _ ’ to the dark side? Like he did?”

 

Luke had turned very pale. Agape, he stammered, “I – that was – that was part, but we never – in the end it didn’t work but -- we –”

 

“So you  _ do  _ think I’m wrong? He told me you would,” Ben scathed, “as if you’ve never felt the dark before.”

 

Ben was actually referring to both Snoke and Vader, but Luke didn’t need to know that. His eyebrows knit together as he looked down upon his uncle.

 

“You’re scared.”

 

Luke regained his composure in that moment.

 

“Scared  _ for  _ you, Ben.”

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment we've all been waiting for. Probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a day late! Things got sort of busy. But anyway, thank you all for sticking with me and reading this. This was my first multi-chapter work, and pretty important to me to write too. In the end, I hope you enjoyed it.

**“Supposing that I should have the courage**

**To let a red sword of virtue**

**Plunge into my heart,**

**Letting to the weeds of the ground**

**My sinful blood,**

**What can you offer me?**

**A gardened castle?**

**A flowery kingdom?**

**What? A hope?**

**Then hence with your red sword of virtue.”**

**-Stephen Crane**

 

He takes a deep breath. Another. And another. He feels he’s been standing here, waiting, for a very long time now.

 

The sun is going down. He feels one of the others approach. He looks at them, understands, nods. It’s time to move.

 

They move through a sparse grassland. The topography is gentle hills here, severe mountains off to the distance. He has been so many places in the galaxy – all corners of the galaxy – but he supposes he’s still surprised at a planet like this, with so many different climates and environments. And yet, disparate as they are, they all work together. Maybe there’s something he likes about that.

 

No one talks, and the wind rustles the tall grass as if there were silent forms, multitudinous, walking beside them. It’s a transitional season here, and everything is dying. But in the muted color there is still beauty. Thunder cracks overhead, and he splits a grin under his mask.

 

 _Oh_ , he’s shaking. He should calm down. More deep breaths. _In, out, in, out_ , and he is reminded of a young boy doing the very same, on a sunny day on a distant planet, also before a storm came.

 

But it’s just so _difficult_ to get any handle on his emotions right now. And besides, does he really need to, now of all times? He’s good enough – better than everyone else – that he thinks he probably doesn’t.

 

They walk for many more silent moments, until they come upon the rise where the Knights will find his order. They are within a bowl, of sorts. The group, numbering maybe twenty or so, sits around a central fire. They’re relaxing, laughing, resting after a long day of training. Lightning flashes in the distance as they crouch down, watching, but those down below don’t seem bothered.

 

He wonders, in the briefest of moments, what it might be like to be like that. Carefree, unassuming. But he remembers that he is up here because he is not like them. He never has been, he never will be. And he is better than them because of it.

 

His narcissism and his rage are a roiling, stirring mass inside of him. For the first time, he allows himself to feel them fully, with the knowledge that he is right in doing so. He laughs, unashamed, freed, even as he is behind his mask, even as that mask distorts his joy into something even and sinister. A few of the others glance at him, and he expects a blush might have come, but it’s hard to tell.

 

He senses that no one knows what they’re waiting for. He holds up a hand; he tells them: within the hour, within the hour the padawans, the fledgling Jedi, will spread, then they will be truly and very unprepared. Then they can go.

 

And the Knights trust his word, because of course they do, because how could he be wrong? He has the feeling that he has never once been wrong, least of all now. Because he knows that’s coming, that feeble accusation. And he is ready for it, and in a way, he has always been, even if he didn’t always know it.

 

He’s apparently lost in this thought long enough the time becomes right without him realizing it. Only when one of the others gently shakes his arm, does he see.

 

“Alright,” he tells them, heart pounding.

 

They spread along the ridge. The first drops begin to fall as he makes his descent.

He’s the first to reach any of the order. A group of them, some only a few years younger, some much younger, are far away from the others, talking by themselves. He approaches as they consider the rain and decide to return to their tents. But he cannot allow this.

 

His saber, broken but rebuilt with meaning, flares to life.

 

Red, imminent death shades the group as they turn, hearing its angry crackling. One moves to their own saber, one moves to scream, and in one move he holds them and cuts them down. It is not the first time his saber has cut through a living thing, not even the first time it has tasted emotion and conscious Force. But it is the first time it has ever felt so good, and so right, and he wonders how he’s ever felt any positive emotion before now.

 

There are screams, and the rain is coming down in earnest now. Lightning illuminates this violent world as he makes his way towards the center. His task is simple, directed. He meets others on his way, but even had they known who he is, they have never been any challenge for him. Not when his unc – _old master_ – set any limits on him, and not now, that he is permitted to be himself, finally.

 

He is very nearly to the center when he feels his mask torn away from his head. He gasps as the rain hits his face, whirling to see who has done this.

 

She stands there, saber as blue as her skin, stance wide and eyes wild with terror. _Uyos_.

 

“ _Ben_ ?” she cries, choked. Oh, she couldn’t possibly actually – “ _Ben_!” she yells again.

 

Growling, he sprints towards her, and she mirrors him, and they meet somewhere in the middle. The initial impact of their sabers might have only left her stumbling, if he hadn’t put any power behind the blow. She is thrown back, gulping air as she watches him approach.

 

He can feel her, out of her mind with panic and hurt – emotional hurt? He reaches out his hand.

 

“Fuck you,” he spits, and his clawed palm begins to close. “How _dare_ you put that on me?”

 

Her hands shake at her neck, her Force flails against his robes.

 

“ _Pl-”_ she attempts.

 

But he closes his fist completely and she is quiet, goes limp. He kicks her, maybe just to be sure, even though he can feel that there’s nothing left of her with any competence.

 

He reaches out for his mask, but he can’t really focus right now, so he decides to come back for it and continues on.

 

The screams have quieted now, and there isn’t much he can hear aside from the thundering of torrential downpour.

 

And then: “ _BEN!”_

 

Long, strangled, garbled, he would know it anywhere. He can’t help but smile, even as he feels some of the others die, even as he sprints towards this first and ultimate test.

 

He sees him then, dirty robes and uncombed hair, old lightsaber and mechanical, degraded hand, staunch against the blackness. Or, more accurately, against the eerie red glow from someone else on his side. He watches for a moment, debates what to do, rushes forward.

 

Miraculously, this Knight had managed to knock his uncle down, but this he can also not allow. As they are about to deliver the final blow, he cuts cleanly through them, arms raised in dramatic supplication as they fall.

 

He stares down at Luke, and Luke back up at him. He allows Luke to get back to his feet, because this must be a real fight, and they circle each other.

 

He thinks he is ready, he is really and truly enraged – something he’s never felt from his uncle, but something he finds he’s excited to discover.

 

“Master Skywalker!” he says, with a breathless exuberance.

 

“ _Ben_ ,” Luke says, with bitter hatred. “How could you! They were your friends!” He might be crying, but it’s hard to tell.

 

“ _No!_ ” Ben yells, “They never were! I hated them, like I hate you!”

 

“Ben, please,” he pleads, pathetic. “ _Please!_ This isn’t you! Please, you don’t have to do this, let me –”

 

“ _Ben isn’t me! Ben never_ was _me_!” he screams, and they run towards one another.

 

He has sparred with Luke Skywalker before. He has studied with Luke for years now. He knows Luke’s techniques, he knows Luke’s Force.

 

The legend, the last and most revered Jedi in the galaxy. The one who set things right.

 

 

They swing, and block, and parry, their sabers and hatred dancing around one another, connecting in ways filled with power and horror.

 

Luke placed hopes and aspirations into him, that things might continue to be right.

 

There had never been anything so satisfying to destroy as this.

 

They push against each other, sabers screaming in protest, and push each other back. He regards Luke, breathing heavily.

 

Luke is shaking his head. “You can’t do this,” he says, “you won’t.”

 

“You don’t _know_ what I’ll do!” he screams, voice cracking, “You have never known! You’re so wrapped up in your ideas of who I should be, you think you’re so enlightened about what the right path in the Force is!”

 

“I know you’re upset and hurt –”

 

“ _UPSET?_ _UPSET!_ ” He pushes against Luke, and through some miracle holds him down. “ _Five years ago, I was upset!_ ” But Luke is powerful, and he knows this, and he doesn’t know how much longer he has. _“Ten years ago, I was hurt!_ ” He is standing over Luke now. “But you don’t understand! No one has! And no one cares!”

They both stare at each other for a fraction of a second, breathing. Luke breaks free, and he is thrown backwards by him.

 

“Is that why you’re doing this?” Luke yells. “Please, I’m sorry for that, but –”

 

“ _NO!”_ he roars, on his feet again. He charges Luke, and swings again. He screams with each successive swing, “ _YOU – DON’T – GET – TO – BE –”_

 

The world goes white. The world is deafening. The world is scalding.

 

Kylo is groaning, on his side. The ground is smoking where he once stood. Where they –

 

“ _Skywalker!_ ” Kylo screams. He’s on his feet again, murderous, nothing but rage and hatred coursing through him. Thunder booms in the distance, and he hears a ship make the jump to lightspeed.

 

He screams again, amorphous, cracks forming in the ground around him.

 

The Knights are standing nearby.

 

“Lord Ren,” one says, “Skywalker got away. But there’s this one, I think the only one left, if you want to question her or take her with us.”

 

Breathing heavy, eyes wild, Kylo barely recognizes her. But Ben knew her, years ago, before he was fully himself.

 

“Abran,” he croaks, throat dry.

 

She is openly sobbing, weak and deplorable. She is muddy, filthy, disgusting.

 

“ _Ben!_ ” she is wailing, “ _Ben,_ why did you do this! How _could_ you do this! What _happened to_ –”

 

His hand is around her throat – his physical hand and her fleshy throat – and she gasps, struggling uselessly against the Knight holding her and against him.

 

“No,” he says, softly, considering.

 

“No, I’m not Ben,” he tells her. “That boy is dead.”

 

He tightens his grip, watching as the light leaves her pathetic eyes.

 

“I’m Kylo Ren,” he is telling her, and they both exhale.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this far! Let me know what you think; comment here or come to talk to me on tumblr at antagonist-official.


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